


Trust Me

by NeonFinch



Series: Trust Me (Series) [1]
Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters: Snakewood | Pokemon Snakewood (Hacked) Version, Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Asexual Character, Class Differences, F/M, Galar-chihou | Galar Region (Pokemon), Government, Government Agencies, Government Conspiracy, Houen-chihou | Hoenn Region (Pokemon), Mentions of Cancer, Multi, POV First Person, Pandemic - Freeform, Pokemon, Political, PostwickShipping, Poverty, Retelling of Pokemon Sword & Shield, Romance, main character has her shit together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-21
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:21:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 40,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22826314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeonFinch/pseuds/NeonFinch
Summary: Ghost has beaten the Unbeatable Champion, Leon. Against all odds, she did it. As part of her new life, she must learn to become the new darling face of Galar--and it's much harder than it looks.Galar is reluctant to receive its new Champion, but she'll try to make her way into their hearts, with the help of Leon himself.In the other regions, something wicked is brewing at the success of Galar's exploitation of Pokemon battling--and it will change the world of Pokemon itself.
Relationships: Dande | Leon/Kibana | Raihan, Hop (Pokemon) & Original Character(s)
Series: Trust Me (Series) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1928650
Comments: 10
Kudos: 12





	1. Confession.

"I'm leaving." He mutters, eyes not meeting mine. The beginnings of soul wracking sobs are visible through his shoulders as they tremble in the florescent lighting. "I... I can't stay, Ghost." He drops his bags at my feet, the sound of them as heavy as my heart. All of them were packed to the brim, as if he'd made plans before the match to go somewhere; either home, or to the Champion's Tower--the permanent residence of the World Champ. I wince at the thought. He was all in, as usual.

"Leaving...?" I freeze, staring at him. His dark hair covered his normally happy eyes, and I felt a pit of dread grow in my stomach. After all, I knew why he had to leave. Because of me. Because of the Championships. Because I couldn't let him win. I never did, and I probably never would get the chance to again. It was my fault... all of it. From the very beginning, from the moment we met. I inhale painfully and loudly, cold air sucking through my teeth. "H..hop... no. Wait... ple-please don't...." I reach out to him, gingerly placing a hand on his shoulder. Would he pull away? I silently begged him not to. "Look.., hey. Hop... listen..." I trail, fumbling for words. What was I supposed to say in all of this? My best friend... and I'd hurt him beyond what I could fix. Probably beyond what anyone could fix. 

To my relief, he wraps me up tightly in a hug, his long arms squeezing my shoulders. "Ghost... I... I would only slow you down. That match showed that. I just... I have some things I need to do... alone this time." He shudders, sobs still wracking his body. "I need to go away from here... just for a bit." His breath is hot and wet on my neck, and his sobs trail into hiccups as we stand there, frozen in the embrace of one another. I felt so small. I feel tears silently stream down my face and into Hop's collarbone, and he lets out the most sorrowful groan, hand clutching my hair. "Ghost... God, this is the hardest thing I've ever done..."

I stare at the lockers in the distance, watching as Leon pushes through the crowd of murmuring paparazzi and shoving them back through the exit doors. His sad, golden eyes meet mine, and I curl into Hop more. Dealing with Leon was going to be another ordeal entirely. 

We stood there, hugging together, just as we had in the very beginning. Best friends... meant to build each other stronger and better... but why do I feel so empty? "I couldn't have ever just let you win... you deserved better than that... but... ugh, I'm so stupid!" I bury my face in his shoulder, only to find that he'd stopped sobbing. "I feel so empty, Hop."

He falls silent, only the echoes of my horrible gasps as they echo around the locker room.

He pulls away just enough to see my face, looking bewildered, tears still rolling down his face. "Stupid? Oh no... no, Ghost... I'm the stupid one..." He puts a hand on my jaw, smirking sadly. "I was stupid enough to believe I could've ever bested you."

Now I'm the one sobbing audibly. He didn't understand. He couldn't process what I was feeling had nothing to do with the battles and everything to do with losing him. I can't imagine how I look, trying to keep a smile on my face, even though its the last thing I want. "Hop... oh god... I'm losing you... I know this was our dream, but... it's never been worth losing you... please don't go..."

He huffs softly, the corners of his lip turning up just barely in a sad smile. He wipes my eyes with his thumbs, finally meeting my gaze; and I found that I couldn't wrench myself away. The gold in his eyes sparkled with the glaze of tears over them. I hold my breath. God...

I catch myself. I suddenly so desperately want to say, "I love you." It isn't something that's new to me. We've said the phrase to each other often, we were just that close... we were like family. It also isn't the first time I felt the slightest hint of possession take over me for him. He'd always been mine, and I his. It's how we functioned. But his gentleness now... something in it felt different.

He pushes the hair from my face, and I return the favor. He huffs, smirking wider at my shaking touch. "Now, it's not all bad. You can finally beat me getting to someplace, huh?" He chuckles. He keeps talking, trying to cheer me up, but his voice gets more and more distant. The familiar sense of disconnecting with reality washes over me, and dull ringing fills my ears. Static. Everything is static, and all I can see is his eyes flicking over mine, searching for something... what was he looking for?

Why am I so scared of losing him? It isn't supposed to go this way. Do...do I really, actually love him? Do I need him? ...does he even need me....?

My mind flicks through other scenes, remembering the other times I'd felt like this. One moment, we're 10, sharing Wooloo as a pillow in the summertime meadow, his hand clutched in mine. The next, we're 18, fresh out of school, and his buddies are teasing him for choosing me as his rival. His hands are balled up at his sides, and his cheekbones are full of color as he defends me, well, defends us. Even the first nights we shared in the Wild Area... the outline of his body in a campfire glow, unable to sleep from pure excitement. It didn't matter what it was. It was him and I. Always.

That's what I'm terrified of. My life without him.

I sob harder, wrenching myself free from the ringing in my ear. "Hop... I have to tell you this, and I have to tell you now." I softly press my lips into his neck. I feel the vibrations of his grunt as he freezes solid.

"I love you, okay? Like, really, really, love you. I need you here with me... I don't know what I'm going to do without you... I... I don't wanna be rivals anymore."

His eyes widen. "Am I not worth challenging anymore? I...I don't understand..."

I look up, holding his face in my hands. His breathing is still shallow-- still frozen.

"No... Hop. That's not what I meant--I just... I want us to be partners, not only rivals. I want to be with you no matter where you go. I want... I need you." I inhale, biting my bottom lip as he relaxes into my palms, eyes brimming again.

"Aw, geez, Ghost. You could've just said so..." he trails, placing a palm over mine on his cheek. "I kno--"

I place a finger over his lips and lean in, arms sliding down his shoulders. He stiffens for a moment, but as our lips meet, he relaxes again.

I gently pull away after a moment, breath a little quicker than before. "I didn't have any other way to prove it to you, Hop. I really--"

He doesn't give me a chance to finish before he wraps me up tightly, passionately kissing me again.

"Shut up, Ghost," he murmurs. "Just... just be quiet," he breathes, a hand going to hold my hair.

And now, I'm the one shaking. God, this feels so... good. It felt good to be honest with him, and it felt good to have those feelings reciprocated. It feels even better to have him press my shoulders into the locker, the weight of his body against my chest. The smallest of moans escapes me as he begs me to open up, breath sweet against mine, as if it were a question. 'Is this good enough? Am I good enough for you?'

I answer graciously, the passion I felt for him bubbling into my chest. Breathily, I interlace my fingers in his and he squeezes them back. "Please... please don't go," I huff heavily, breaking the kiss for air.

His eyes lock on mine, and I wilt a little at the sheer passion in them. It seems he wanted this as badly as I did. "I have to," he gruffs back, chest heaving. "Especially now... Ghost, I have to prove myself as something worth keeping... to you, to my brother, to everyone... you deserve someone who is going to give their very best, and I want it to be me!"

His hands hold mine, and he places my palms over his heart. I feel the hot pounding beneath them, and smile. This is mine. He is mine... and now he knows. Doesn't he know that just this is good enough? "Hop, you don't have to prove yourself to me... I'm already so proud of you! You're breaking my heart..."

It doesn't deter him. "I have to do this, for me."

"Fine," I huff, smirking at him. Stubborn as all hell. But it wouldn't be Hop otherwise. "But you'd better come back to me, okay?"

He nods, placing one last kiss on my forehead, humming. "Ah, I promise. I'll come back even better than before. Just you wait."

"Not possible."

He smirks, and turns away, picking up the bags one by one. Once they're all situated on his back, he hugs Leon tightly, and walks away, never once stopping to look back. It was always moving forward, for him. He never wants to look back, and I sort of was jealous of that. Once Hop is out of sight, Leon puts an arm around my shoulder, pulling me into a hug. "Aw, kid. He'll be okay. Hop is the toughest guy I know." He winks, and ruffles my hair. "You know us Postwick kiddos. We just kinda pull through."

I huff. "Yeah, but do you think he'll ever be himself again...? I mean..." It was a lot to take in. Rivals, even to our final battle, and after a crushing defeat, I tell him I don't want to be his rival anymore, that I'd rather be his partner... It was a lot to take in stride, even for someone as strong as Hop.

Leon huffs, crossing his arms, golden gaze over his shoulder. "I dunno, Ghost. But I think him knowing he has you to come back to, regardless is helpful. I don't think you know how long he's been pining over you. He may battle with all of his passion, but don't let it fool you; he's been hopelessly fond of you since we were kids. Smitten is a kind word for it." He smirks. "I should know. It's not like it's hard to see, Ghost. You love him, and he loves you, and you've both always just... clicked..." he trails, noticing as more people were trying to get in to the room. "But you have to know," he whispers. "No one else but you and he and I can know that. Not anymore. They," he points, "will rip you limb from limb if they find out that you and Hop really have it in for one another. The New Champion and her ex-rival? That'll be one for all of the headlines, and you'll just be a passing fad... why do you think I've stayed 'single' all this time, huh?" He winks. "Single sells, and you know it."

I look away in disgust. Is this a joke to him? He's right, but he doesn't have to say it like that. "I don't know if I can hide it, Leon." I step farther into the recesses of the room, trying to stay just out of reach of cameras. "Hop's ego doesn't really seem to be one for hiding in the background, with me or not. He wants the spotlight as much as you did, and I think if he had to get it only through me, it'd just be a constant reminder of his downfall. It would kill him, Leon, and you know it."

He looks away now, sighing. "Listen, I want what's best for him too, you know? But, you're my project now, and I've got to teach you how things work around here. If I don't, there's no telling what the media will make of you, or the whole sport in general. These matches... this whole system... Ghost, it's all the economy this place has. If we change the way it works, its not just going to affect you and Hop. It'll affect almost everyone in Galar." He leans out to me and grabs my arm, and I yelp as he pulls me to him.

"What do you want from me, huh?!" I hiss through my teeth. "Let go! You're hurting me!" Why was he acting like this? Only one other time had I ever seen him like this, and it was when he found Hop and I in the forest in Postwick, passed out from whatever it was that attacked us. He'd almost shaken the both of us to death with his worry. But that was out of protection... now his words were laced with hidden things I didn't understand, and each one of them was nearly a demand. I shiver.

His grip relaxes a little on my arm, but he doesn't let me move any further away.

His golden gaze is full of intensity just like Hop's had been, but all of the warmth was gone. I grimace. What was I? An open book to the both of them? Could they read me that easily? "Ghost, we can find a way to get him that limelight, okay? We can find a way to make this all work, but you have to trust me, alright? There's things a LOT bigger than the both of us at play here, okay? So just listen to me, and we will figure it out..." he was closer to me now more than I wanted him to be, his dorky snapback almost touching my forehead, and his huge hand still clutching my upper arm. "You are just going to have to trust me, alright? Give me your word, Ghost." His voice is low, and I realize that his large stature and overly dramatic cape shield the both of us from view.

"Fine!" I pull away, rubbing my arm. "You have my word. Can we please go now? I don't want to put off talking to paparazzi any later than I need to. I'm losing my patience." And my sanity. This is all too much. Just this morning, it'd been Hop and I. Two kids with our bags full of pokeballs, and dreams bigger than the sky. All of the thoughts of Hop being the one in the limelight came back to me all at once. He'd talked about it as if it were the only way he'd get validation. The only way he'd finally be 'good enough'. Now I'm not sure that I'm good enough for all of it either.


	2. New Tricks.

The next few days fly by. From photoshoots, to press conferences, to meeting people who I didn't even know had a part in the Championships... it was all overwhelming. All of it was a blur--and the only thing that remained constant was the absence of Hop. No calls, no texts, nothing. Even when I tried to call, it went straight to voicemail. He'd turned his phone off, but for what? Did he ever turn it on to make sure everything was okay? What was the point? What if he got in trouble? My mind flicks from scene to scene, each one a little more violent than the rest. He could get lost, if his directional skills were anything like his brother's, or he could end up stranded somewhere with K.O.'ed Pokémon, and be miles from the next rest area...

I shake my head at the thoughts. 'Have a little more faith in him than that,' I think to myself. 'He's way more than grown, and I'm sure he's got a good head on his shoulders....' Maybe he just wanted to be left alone. I mean, if I were in his shoes, I wouldn't want to be bothered either. And I sure as hell didn't want to be bothered now, but obviously the path I chose doesn't include privacy.

Today though, was some sort of respite. I lean against the wall of the windowsill seat, staring out over the inner city of Wyndon. People bustle about--mostly tourists and vendors clogging the sidewalks like the thoughts in my head. They seem so... distant. Or maybe I am, sitting here in the Champion's Tower. I huff. It's either I'm in full public view, or absolute seclusion, trapped here between meetings. An ache in my heart yearned for adventure and nature... the feel of grass between my bare toes, and the sun on my shoulders. Not here, not like this.

I exhale, sipping the oran berry tea from the warm mug in my palms, trying to take in just one detail of the present moment at a time. It’s got a citrus smell, but there’s hints of bitterness in it, just enough that it was best sipped, not taken all at once. It slowed me down just a little, and I liked that sensation. To be made to take in one thing all at once. The tea and the mug itself is a gift, sent from my extended family in Hoenn. Though I spent all my school years in Galar with my mother, Hoenn held my heart in the summertime. Bright sunny days on the beach, and nothing but wilderness for most of it. It was wild, but free. The least populous of all the regions, it was more well known for catching and camping with Pokemon than battling them. Like a giant nature preserve of sorts.

A lazy waft of steam drifts from the rim of the mug to my lips, and I relish the sweet scent. The smell brings back memories of times spent with Professor Birch and his son, Brendan, and takes my thoughts far from here. Brendan was like an older cousin. Not protective or around enough to be a brother, but just dumb and strange enough to be family. I smirk to myself as I remember convincing him to get stuck in berry bushes, trying to get just the right amount to make pokeblocks for his show team. I wonder if he got stuck in them again just to get this tea for me. I chuckle at the thought of a now grown Brendan struggling to reach berries through brambles, cursing all the while. I wonder how he was doing now, working with his dad in the lab. It’d been months since we’d seen each other.

"Rotom?" I breathe, watching as the little creature zips from the unmade bed to my palm. I clasp it gently. "Thank you."

It chirps happily.

I flick it open to messages, and the glaring radio silence from Hop bites at me. The display is still stuck on the last thing I sent him.

“Sent one week ago; 14:53”

I frown. Still unread. I flick through the messages, looking for any sign of what he’d planned to do before he left.

ONE WEEK AGO:

Me: Hey, uh... did you know you left your socks at the hotel again? How do you keep doing that??

Skip: lol I dunno. Oops.

Me: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ur gonna get gross toes. You can't win if you have gross toes.

Skip: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) maybe I'll win BECAUSE I have gross toes.

Me: Are you still here? I wanna talk before I fight Leon... I can't find you!

Me: Hop...?

Skip: I rly don't wanna see you right now if that's ok. I need to be alone... Good luck, btw

Me: ok. Thx. Love you.

Skip: yeah

Me: You never told me where you were leaving to... are you leaving the region?

Me:...I get it. Don't tell me where, just let me know if you're leaving Galar.

Me: C'mon, I know you're reading these.

Me: Leon is kinda creeping me out, dude. Was he always so... stressed?

Me: did you always not answer like this???

Me: Hop, I meant what I said earlier, okay? I... want to be with you, wherever you go. You are my home. Please don’t stay gone for too long...

Me: ...im so so sorry... I know this is a lot on you... please answer.

Skip: on train. no signal. taking corvi taxi to diff region. turning phone off for battery, going backpacking. see you soon. love you, ghost.

Me: I love you too, Hop.

Me: You are enough. You have always been enough.

He still hadn't seen the last message I sent, and it stings a little. Not even a picture or something to let me know he was okay... I shake my head and back out of the texts. He needs his space, and I will find a way to give it to him. Instead, I open Brendan's thread and scroll along, chuckling at the stupidity. Anything to lighten the mood.

Me: [picture] Skip and I are on the way to the championships!

Brendan: I can hear his stupid accent from here. "Oi, gov! On me way to the pitch, somebody bring me a spot of tea!" Its called a field, anyway. Pitch is so dumb. That's when you play baseball.

Me: lol yeah, it’s just like that around here. I think it's cute.

Brendan: weirdo. when are u bringing him home? This summer? I’m so sick of getting pictures and videos of the guy and never meeting him. I mean, cmon, you’re always talking about him, I don’t even know him outside of the screen time he gets with Leon.

Me: depends on how this goes down. It's not like the Elite four. We can't just both win, so.

Brendan: yeouch. Galar dont fuck around, huh? What if he wins?

Me: I hope he does.

Brendan: really?

I stopped replying after that. I didn't want to address the fact that one of us had to win. Why couldn’t we both win? There always had to be a champion, at least at this level.

Brendan: AAAAA! Congrats! I knew you could do it! [picture of Birch with two fists of beer smiling widely at the camera] Dad's thrilled! We’re dinking one for you!

Me: thanks! I hope I didn't make a dumb face. I made a dumb face, didn't I?

Brendan: [picture] [picture] [picture] [picture] oh, if only you knew how many memes I just made

Me: ...yikes.

Brendan: someone's gotta do it. Might as well be me.

Pulling up the keyboard, I shoot him a text.

Me: Hey

Brendan: oh. casual.

Brendan: Hey.

Me: wanna come to Galar?

Seeing him might make things a little better.

Brendan: are u sure it's safe? Media says u reclused urself to that tower. dont wanna give em something to talk about.

Even he knew about what the media could be like a little. Even elite four competitors got some screen time.

Me: you're an elite four champion. You have a purpose to be here that isn't me. Besides. You're family.

Brendan: ….are you ok? I've seen a lot of Leon lately, and nothing about you. Also, where's the boy toy, eh? I usually would’ve gotten a dumb picture of the both of you by now.

I freeze. Could he deduce it that easily? And the change of subject was so sudden...

Brendan: don't tell me he's there. Cause that's a lie. You'd have paparazzi up your ass 24/7 trying to catch a glimpse of a sex scandal. 

I blush heavily. Sex scandal? It wouldn’t be a scandal if... if we were together. I huff. Was publicly denying Hop part of the plan? I press buttons furiously to respond, but then Brendan begins typing again. I wait for him to finish.

Brendan: Did you tell him you loved him yet? Or did he reject you?

Figures. He thinks Hop’s disappeared due to something between us, not the fact that we had to battle one another. It wasn’t a stretch, it’s not the first time I’d ever been pissed at Hop about something.

Me: yeah. He said yes, but it happened out of eyeshot of cams. Leon wants it kept secret for some reason, so keep it on the DL. Hop bounced out of region after the battle. Idk to which one he ended up in. He's camping, at least he said.

I eye his typing, and he seems to have something to say that lasts forever. Another sip of tea, and I gaze again out the window, waiting. Leon would be here soon, something about a personal training session at the rec pitches. My team would be itching for action; they’d been in their balls for the past week, resting and otherwise remaining stagnant. They behaved most of the time, only popping out to check on me occasionally. I glance over at my leather carrying sash, balls nestled on their clips. The whole thing hung haphazardly against the bedside table, thrown there after being forced to stay the night here directly after the match. As days came and went, more of my things showed up from home, but the large living suite was still very much empty—much bigger than my room at home. My things looked primitive compared to some of the furniture they were situated on now. Old frayed books slumped on metal bookcases, and mostly well-worn clothes were folded neatly in the large boudoir. They barely took up any space.

My phone buzzes.

Brendan: ...did he travel by corvi taxi? Cause one landed in town yesterday. We don’t get those very often...

That’s not what he had typed, but that’s beyond me. Must’ve changed his mind. I wonder what he’d orignally planned to send...?

Brendan: I figured he would’ve came in something less conspicuous.

I perk up. Hoenn makes sense, why hadn’t I thought of that? It was everything Hop enjoyed—adventure, nature, space to take up without judgement. And less paparazzi. I really wanted the first time Hop went there to be with me, but I guess this was fine, too.

Me: yeah. His camping gear is gold-colored. Maybe he'll come into town. Keep an eye out for me?

Brendan: maybe. Maybe I'll buy him dinner. Scare the shit outta him with all the weird stuff I know about you. 

I smirk.

Me: better not, fucker

Brendan: oh you're on now.

Me: hey, and I’m serious about coming to Galar. I could really use some help from home.

Brendan: we’ll see. There's stuff with dad I need to work on.

I flick out of the conversation, and look at the time. 9 am. It’d almost be time for Leon to show up, and for us to go training together. Exhaling, I stand, and go to change into something more presentable. There wasn’t much I had that didn’t have some wear and tear to it—that much was to be expected after camping for the past four months, training with Hop. Opening the boudoir, I shake out a familiar black sweater and comfortable skinny jeans. They’re more like joggers than jeans, but had the pattern of jeans.

My thoughts are interrupted when a sharp knocking comes from the door, loud and clear.

“You about ready? I know I’m early, but,” He is early, but I’ll manage.

“I’m ready, yeah. You can come in.” I pull my black hair into a low pony and place the plaid beret over it, turning to the door. Leon stands there in far less impressive clothing; sweatpants and a sleeveless spandex shirt, clinging to his well-built frame. His normally long, puffy hair is held in a braid over his shoulder. For once, he looked normal. Not some overfluffed version of himself, trying to impress others. He looked much like he did when we were kids—just... just a bucktoothed boy who loved pokemon, but now, er, buff.

“Geez, no snapback today? You must be serious about this training business.” I smirk. He crosses his arms, laying back against the doorframe. “I just like being comfortable when training. Battles are about the grandeur, you know? You don't look yourself either.”

I shrug. “I don't feel it either. Is this pitch outdoors at least? I could use the sunshine."

Leon raises an eyebrow. "It can be anything you want. You're not in Postwick anymore." He starts off down the corridor and I follow, strapping my ball belt to my waist.

When we walk into the room, it's completely dark, save the center ring. Leon looks down at me, smirking, his yellow eyes just a glint in the darkness. "C'mon." I walk behind him, steps echoing in the arena. An eerie feeling of dread settles over me.

"Lee?" Being alone with him made me anxious, especially after the other night...

"What do you prefer, huh? Grassland or forest?" He asks, before tapping his toe on the very center of the field. A small podium comes from the ground, a similarly lit screen attached to it. The blue-white glow illuminates his face, and he smirks at me. "You're dealing with some of the finest tech in Galar, right here," he murmurs.

"Uh... forest?" I manage. He taps a few buttons, and without warning, the room explodes in a bright white burst of energy, and I can't help but cover my eyes with my arms. "Lee!" I shout, taking a step back. I feel my back press against something hard, and I blink away the brightness, feeling behind me, and looking up. The branches of a huge oran berry tree stretched out above me, and I blink again. "Oooh, wow." What was the purpose of this? Pitches were normally flat expanses, like football turf. What would being able to pick the terrain be useful for...?

Leon smirks, peeking out behind another tree. "Amazing right?"

I nod. "So what do you do here...? Do you train? Battle?" All the expanse reminded me of Hoenn.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a pokeball, letting out his Charizard, yawning into existence. "Both."

I size up my own ball, and release an equally tired Mightyena, who stretches and sits on his haunches, leaning down to nuzzle me. "Ah, good boy, Sabre." He slowly gazes over Leon and his Charizard, letting out an annoyed huff before laying down in the grass. He rolls over and shows his belly, obviously not worried about anything.

"Aw... big boy too sleepy to battle?" I murmur, rubbing his overly fluffy belly. This Mightyena was special, and honestly, growing old. He was a gift from Brendan when I was a kid--already leveled up and stubborn as hell. "If you can get him to listen to you, he's yours," he said, and so, I did. I was 12 then.

Large for his size, Sabre made a great defender, and stuck closely to my side all through school. He wasn't the starter on my team, but he was an important and necessary part of it. "Well, which are we doing, huh?" I ask Leon, hands smooshing and un-smooshing Sabre's face. The look of pure pleasure on him relaxed me, too.

Leon also pets his Charizard, smirking. "I thought we could just take a walk. I figure beating me three days ago is enough training stress for now." His smirk melts into a real smile, tugging on my heart. It's something I hadn't seen on Leon's face for a while. I smile back.

"That sounds great, actually."

He offers his hand to me to help me up from petting Sabre, and I take it.

"Although, it's not all gonna be rainbows and Ponytas," he grunts. "It'll be better out here than in there," he motions towards the tower. "Ears everywhere. In here... well. It's much more private."

I nod, one hand buried in Sabre's ruff as we walk through the cool forest. If I breathe in deeply enough, I can imagine the smell of berry trees and almost feel sunlight dappling through them. This was exactly what I needed. We walk in silence a moment, and I don't mind the quiet.

Though there are no sounds of birds or other pokemon, it's nice to just listen to the brushing of footsteps in the grass. I silently wonder if that really was Hop's Corviknight in Hoenn. I should've asked Brendan if he'd noticed the white feathers in the tail and wings--Hop's Corviknight had just a couple on the left side, and several on the neck just under his beak...

"So, how do you like it here, so far?" He asks, glancing over his shoulder at me following behind him.

I shrug. "I miss having something to do that isn't photoshoots or press conferences. The tower is nice--but I feel like I'm dirtying it up with all my shabby things. Everything here is so modern and sleek."

He chuckles. "Honestly, it's a pretty interesting thought thinking of you sitting in that suite, reading from your leather books with all of the technology around. You just look... out of place."

I nod. This conversation is going casually enough for me to know this isn't what he wanted to talk about, really. Surely he didn't think I couldn't read him that well... I humor him a minute more. "I feel stupid, really. I don't understand all of this grandeur for one battle against a kid that probably won't win. What's the point?"

Leon stops, snorting. "Bloody hell, Ghost, you don't beat around the bush, do you?" He turns, arms across his chest as he tries to stifle his laughter. "You're the face of an empire now. You have the same, if not more, political influence than Chairman Rose himself. Gym leaders, trainers, and Pokemon activists all come to me because they think I know everything there is to know about battling pokemon! I mean, sure, I may know enough to be among the best, but that isn't everything. All the decisions that Galar makes to this industry, either get reinforced or scrapped by the Champion's reaction. This whole thing is so much bigger than just winning a battle, Ghost. It's a display of power, of wealth, and most importantly, health of Galar as a region. Millions and millions of people around the world tune into the matches here. The more star-studded action they see, the more attractive we become. More income, more tourism, more for our people and our economy. Galar hasn't always been this stable, you know."

I offer a hand out to Charizard, smirking as she brings her chin to my palm. I pet the top of her snout with my other hand, relishing the feel of smooth, warm scales beneath my fingers. Leon almost seems impressed with it, as if his Charizard would be too stubborn to let me hold her.

"Oh, I know," I say, hugging the creature. "I just have a hard time putting all the pieces together. Sure, the figurehead thing makes a lot of sense when you put it that way. That's the part that has to be all for show... but..." I trail.

Leon pets Sabre gingerly behind the ears, and he attempts to itch where Leon scratches.

I laugh, "Get at the base of them," I point. "He's a sucker for that." Leon listens, and Sabre is soon on his back at Leon's feet, tongue lolling out. Stupid pleasure whore.

As he scratches, I can tell he's thinking.

"...but what, Ghost?"

I swallow. "If it's all for show, why can't I be with your brother?"

Silence.

"Lee?"

"Ghost... it would set a precedent. Most if not all of the pro battlers are single. Name one pro, ever, who was publicly claimed. Go ahead."

I frown. "You can't tell me that Kabu is single. He's like, 50. He's got to have a family. And what about Norman in Hoenn? His daughter, May, and his wife..."

"Both of them are much older. Name someone our age."

"C'mon Lee, you know I can't."

"Exactly. It would be no more different with Hop. If you think you had too many cameras in your face now, it'd be twice as bad with the two of you. Not only the fact that he didn't beat you, but the fact that he's part of my family would give the media all the reason they need to turn the two of you into scandal. And don't forget that you'd never talk about battling again. All of your conferences would be about you and Hop. 'What is it like dating the Champion?' 'Who wears the pants?' 'Who wins against who in the bedroom?'" He lingers on the last one with the hint of a grimace. "Eugh. I can't even think about the things the media would put the both of you through."

I swallow the bright blush down, looking away, "Then tell me how to make it work. Help me figure it out how to tell everyone we're together, and also sell it so that it helps Galar in some way. Make something about us "star-studded" as you say, please... It's going to kill him if we don't."

Leon thinks a moment, still petting Sabre.

"You told me to trust you, and I am. So tell me what to do," I repeat.

"You won't love it, Ghost," he starts. "But you have to make a spectacle. If the two of you want to be together, it has to be big. I don't know exactly what that looks like, but if you can figure it out... let me know."

Easy. "A battle. And I let him win. And when it's all said and done, I confess my love." I huff. It was dorky as hell, but all I had.

Leon smirks. "Oh, original. You battle like a hero, but your creativity is about as lively as a Snorlax." He looks up at me. "What about a break? What if the two of you go camping, and I tip off the press? You'll have to play up the drama a little somehow..." he thinks.

"Okay...?" I was curious to how this would work.

"Maybe I can manage some pokemon encounters that'll give em something worth talking about. It'll be a good training exercise for the both of you, and you can practice your acting while you're at it." He winks. "And that way we won't be too far away from one another if something goes south."

I nod. "Sounds reasonable to me." He stands, expression changing as he pats Sabre. "But first, we're gonna practice. At least to give you some ideas." He points at me, grinning. "Battle me, Ghost. And pretend that I'm Hop. What're you going to do, or say?"

I blush lightly, "You're Hop? Oh dear," I laugh lightly as he walks around to his Charizard. He doesn't seem to be joking.

"Ghost, I know you've bested me before, but I can't thank you enough for making me stronger. Every time we battle, it's like I learn something new, about you, and your Pokemon!" He offers, and I feel a pit of anxiety grow in my stomach. Leon's golden gaze shows warmth like Hop's, and the likeness in word choice was uncanny.

"Uh... um. Y-you too!" I stumble, nudging Sabre from the ground with my foot. I clear my throat, "I couldn't have ever asked for a better rival!" God this feels so fake...

Eyes narrowing as his Charizard stretches her wings, I hear Sabre give a growl. "Use bite, Sabre!" I command, watching him speed out from beside me, latching onto Charizard's wing.

"Incinerate," Leon breathes, and I flinch as fire brightens the area, all aimed at Sabre.

"Get out of there, boy!" I shout, my heartbeat rising with adrenaline. I love this feeling, this... everything. This part wasn't fake.

Sabre barely dodges the attack, the smell of burnt hair wafting into the room. His shoulder is charred, and he howls, the pain from the burn boosting his morale to fight. "You can do it, Sabre!"

Something in Leon's gaze changes, something passionate. It was if fire itself now danced behind his expression, lit anew with the heat of battle. "He's a strong bugger, eh?" He makes a motion with his hand. "Though, enough of this horseplay. Time to see if an old dog really can use new tricks. Charizard, do away with him. Sky drop, would you?"

I grimace. Sky Drop? For a training battle? "Hang in there Sabre!" With a swoop, Sabre is picked up in Charizard's jaws, and hoisted into the sky. I wince. This one was going to sting. "Do your best to protect yourself!" I shout, watching in almost terror as the two fly above us. I lock my eyes on Leon. "I thought this was for show, not to K.O. my team in training!"

He walks towards me calmly. "You have to be prepared for anything, Ghost. One of these days, Hop is going to snap. I'm surprised he's made it this long without resorting to this." His voice is laced with honey, and I take a step back. "How come I'm the only one who knows how you really feel about your pokemon? Huh? That the only reason you level them so high is so that they never have to feel the fear of a crushing defeat? Believe me, I've seen you, training in Hoenn over the summers when you were supposed to be enjoying vacation."

My eyes widen. "How do you know that?"

"I've got people in every region, Ghost. Is that really so surprising to you?"

I look away. "Hop would've never done this. Not even in a real battle. When we train, we bring out the best in each other's parties, not K.O. them!" I say, fists shaking at my sides. He was close now, and maybe just a little too close. "Leon, I'm warning you."

He smirks, snapping his fingers above his head. His Charizard plummets head first to the ground, Sabre now in her claws. With a crashing of dust, Sabre tumbles to my feet, scrambling to get up. "And I'm warning you, Ghost," he gruffs, golden eyes searing mine. "If you want Hop so badly, then you'll fight with everything you have for him. Because I do, every single time."

I swallow hard, reaching out to Sabre, who limped to his feet, hackles raised. "Sabre, you don't have to keep going!" I shout, but he growls and dives right back in to Charizard, crunching down on her neck, claws scratching and gripping into her scales. He'd never fought like this before... but then I realize that I'm shaking. He must be picking up on all my nervous energy...

Charizard roars, arms too short to reach the canine ripping flesh at her clavicle. I cover my ears at the sound. "Sabre!" I shout, pushing Leon out of the way. "Hey, knock it off! That's enoug--" I'm stopped by Leon's arm, holding onto the back of my shirt.

"Let them fight," he gruffs. "I want to see how far your Pokemon will go for you."

I whip around, pulling his hand away in fear. "And let them maim one another? This is just for training, Leon, this is too far!"

His eyes are serious, but he lets go, and I scoff, running into the battle, screaming. Red fills my vision as I watch Charizard catch Sabre in her jaws, crunching down on his haunches. "STOP!" I shout, hands waving about. I shakingly pull out Sabre's ball and put him into it, shivering as I clutch it to my chest. "What the hell is wrong with you, Leon?" I call, breath shuddering as I rub the Pokeball. That was more damage than I ever wanted to see done...

I march up to him, and grab the collar of his shirt pulling him forcefully down to my level. "This isn't a game, Leon." My eyes narrow into slits. Who did he think he was? "I love Hop, and he loves me. Are you really going to deny the two of us that? I am more than strong enough to do whatever needs to be done, and I will not let you stand here and hurt me or my Pokemon like this just to earn your approval or whatever the fuck it is that you want."

His expression darkens, putting a hand over my grip on his collar. "Ghos--"

"No. Don't you fucking dare," I hiss. "I am _this_ close to knocking all your dumb, white, perfectly lined teeth out of your skull. _Don't. Fuck. With. Me._ "

The frown he had a minute ago releases instantly, and he begins to chuckle. "Aw, bloody hell, Ghost. I knew it."

I let go, confused. Was this just another act?

"Knew what?"

"Knew you were one of those noble people. The real trainers, whose heart is in the battle and their pokemon, not the win. The win is just part of it. Trainers who will do whatever it takes to take care of their own."

I step back, one hand still holding Sabre in his pokeball. "You're scaring me, Leon."

"Well, consider your official hazing over." He remarks, eyes flicking to the tree beside us.

With a slow clap, Raihan steps into the clearing, wiping his eye. "Ah, man, that's a good show right there," he laughs, high-fiving Leon. "I guess I owe you some watts, eh?" He smirks, staring down at me with a hand on his hip.

I scoff. This was totally Leon. And for me to only now see it made me feel dumb. I should have known he'd do something dumb like this! How was he so good at acting so serious, when all of this was just a game? What the hell is he trying to prepare me for? And him knowing about my summers... what else does he know about me?

If this is how anything went here, I'll have to stay on my toes much more.


	3. Media Management.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Professor Birch and Brendan make an interesting discovery, and realize that the implications of their findings may lead to much more than trying to find a solution.
> 
> Word of Professor Magnolia's findings about dyna/gigantamaxing makes its way to Wyndon, and straight to the chairman himself. The ultimatum is clear. Temporarily stop the feat until more research is complete; or else risk damage to the battling industry and all of the pokemon and trainers that are a part of it. 
> 
> Oleana, hung between serving her chairman and the two young trainers, has a potentially deadly media stunt lined up if Ghost can't learn her place, and fast.

Birch types along on his computer happily, cataloguing entries from field journals into his online database. Brendan sits in the corner of the room, white coat crumpled in his lap, staring out the window. His foot hangs on the corner of the windowsill, and his head hangs on his palm.

“What’s the matter, Brendan?” Birch offers, still typing away. He knew his son could get too deep into his thoughts and change his mood entirely.

Brendan sighs. “I’m worried about Ghost, is all. I think her and Hop are having a bit of a spat again, and I... don’t know how to help. She seems to think he’s here in Hoenn.” He balls his coat a little tighter, “God, I wish I could be there to help her, Dad. She’s always hated being the center of attention, but she can never seem to say no to a challenge... why did she go off and get that endorsement?” Brendan knew she was always running head first into things, and knowing how she’s felt about Hop didn’t help. Was it all just an elaborate plan to impress him? Surely not. After all, he chose her, and he’d have to be okay with that.

“I’m sure she’ll be fine. After all, she’s probably in one of the safest places in the world, with Galar being modern and what not.” Birch breathes. His typing continues, but then slows to a halt.

Brendan turns over his shoulder, “Dad? What’s wrong?” The silence isn’t normal around Birch. The computer screen is full of different images, and most of them looked like microscope slides. Slowly, Brendan peeks around Birch’s shoulder, mood falling immediately.

“Holy shit. That... that cannot be real. Is that from ball 46? The Charmander?”

Birch nods. “Yeah... and its... mutated.” Leon had a knack for breeding Charmander, and as part of his ‘make Galar and the whole world a better place’ campaign, he’d given one to each of the regions’ professors. Brendan had rolled his eyes then, but now, he was concerned for the creature.

“Look at these cells here,” he points. A white speck among all the red, attached to another white blood cell. “You see how this one is bigger and appears inflamed? I think it’s some type of virus... and I think this one inherited it from his mom.”

Brendan tilts his head. “What do you mean, ‘inherited’? You can inherit a virus? Does Leon’s Charizard have it too?” How was it fit to battle...?

“Well, she did. Magnolia got a chance to treat her, and she’s getting better, but that scar just above her left wing? That’s where it was. She took it out and sent the samples around, trying to figure out the cause... Why would a perfectly healthy, well bred Charizard have cancer? Even when pokemon cancers are so rare...?” Birch trails, tapping keys here and there, zooming in and unzooming. “What do you think? Look at these other pictures from other professors... all of these have this type of growth, but we can’t find the connection. No matter what type, no matter what age...” He flicks through all types of pictures.

Brendan thinks a moment, but then it clicks. “Dad...? Don’t all of those pokemon Gigantamax? Like with those wishing stars?” Why wouldn’t have Magnolia picked up on that? “Does Magnolia know? Unless...”

The two come to the same thought simultaneously. “Unless she does.”

Brendan takes a step back. “Okay, so you mean, they know? She knows? And she isn’t stopping it? Doesn’t that make the pokemon super sick? Can’t it... kill them?” He couldn’t imagine that. Dynamaxing pokemon despite the consequences?

“She probably isn’t allowed to publish her findings,” Birch thinks, clicking around. “These dates and memos don’t match up... Someone is fudging the data... Brendan,” he starts. “Don’t tell Ghost--”

“What? Why not? She has to know! She’s been dynamaxing her pokemon too, even Sabre...” He hates to think about what would happen to that poor thing if it got sick...

“You can’t tell anyone that we know this,” Birch murmurs. “If Magnolia hasn’t made it well known by now, that means someone or something is messing with the data, and they do not want other people to know. Until we can find out who that is, this doesn’t leave this Lab.” His eyes are serious as he turns to his son, “Don’t. Tell. Ghost. You could get her into more trouble than the both of us could imagine. Okay?” He knew his son well—maybe even a little too well to Brendan’s liking.

“Fine. I just hope she stays safe over there,” Brendan huffs, silently wishing that if Hop were here, he’d hurry up and get here.

\---

Oleana huffs angrily, hanging up another phone. Another one gone to the Chairman. He’d been working on a lot lately, trying to make sure that, _that child_ could be received well as Champion. Ghost didn’t make Oleana’s job easy, for sure. Ghost tended to be too cold for the public eye, or at least too private. She would have to open up more to catch their hearts. Oleana knew that Leon did his best to train her, but it wasn’t going as well as hoped.

_“I don’t know, Oleana. She’s got a hell lot of spunk on the pitch, but outside of that, she’s really got nothing. No personality, nothing that makes her interesting, at least in a way that sells.”_

_“What about your brother? I’ve got a photograph right here that says her ticket to stardom could be her love life. I confiscated it from the reporter with a little petty cash, but I could easily let it slip if things don’t work out, Leon.”_

_“Are you kidding?” He roared. “Even for you, Oleana, that is cold. You can pick on me all you want, but you will not pull the two of them into this. They’re just kids! Neither one of them know how to do this media thing—you'd be condemning them to a life of scandal... Ghost can learn, she just needs some sense knocked into her. She’s just not an idiot like I was when I first started—she asks all the wrong questions, and hasn’t learned to just be satisfied with what she’s given. I can make her what she needs to be, but you have to give me a little time.”_

_“Would it really be the worst thing, Leon? People are already talking about her. Saying she’s a symbol for something. Something simpler and not for the future of Galar.” Oleana huffed. “People love you, so your brother would be a welcome second, and you can’t say he doesn’t battle well, either. People are just not responding to her. She’s impulsive, reclusive, and overly private. At least Hop smiles.”_

_“She’s just passionate about her own and could care less about what isn’t hers. She’s got pretty definitive priorities.”_

_“Then convince her that Galar is now hers, if she knows what’s best for her.”_

Oleana is jolted from her thoughts when the Chairman’s door opens. His face is grim as he beckons to her. “Fuck,” she mutters under her breath, picking up the pen and pad at her desk, walking quickly into the room.

“Close the door,” Rose mutters, face in his hands. The door snicks shut, and he moans, “Oh, how I wish these professors would learn their place!”

Oleana blinks. Learn their place? What was he talking about? “I’m sorry, Mr. Chairman, I don’t think I understand...”

Rose huffs indignantly, tossing a memo at Oleana. “Look at that, just look! I can’t bear to even speak it.”

Dramatic, but sure. She picks it up, flicking through it. It’s from professor Magnolia, the old lady who lives on the south side of the island. There’s a lot of it that she doesn’t understand, but then there’s something she does. In red pen circles on the last page are photo scans of lab samples, and notably a photo of Leon’s Charizard’s wing. Text at the bottom reads, “Probable cause: Dyna/Gigantamaxing. Tumor on left wing removed and awaiting further testing. Current Understanding: The surge of power to sustain these forms causes pokemon’s bodies to break down and causes certain types of pokemon cancers. Do not Dyna/Giga. Until further research is conducted.”

Rose’s eyebrows are raised, as if to say, “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

Oleana swallows. She chooses her next words carefully. “It looks as if changing their forms changes their body composition. Surely the case with Leon’s Charizard was just her old age, right? I mean, she’s nearly 25.” Though, the idea of it isn’t too far from realistic in her mind—those evolutions got huge!

Rose shrugs. “I’m not sure. But, you’re the PR person, Oleana, you tell me what this means for Galar.” His eyes narrow in annoyance.

“Um, if I were to guess, probably a lowered level of ticket sales as well as screen time. Our highest numbers are when someone dynamaxes, or they know they will,” She offers, clicking the pen on the paper nervously. “Surely we have to let other people know, and they’ll understand...”

With a swivel of his chair, Rose stares out the window of the office, contemplating. “Ah, but not just yet. We’re not even sure if the dynamaxing is what’s causing the issue. Magnolia herself said it’s a “probable” cause. There’s no need to put us in a hole just yet.”

A hole both financially and in other ways, Oleana thinks. Without the economy of battling under their belt, it wouldn’t be long until Galar fell back to the same level as Johto and Hoenn. Both regions weren’t known for their standards of living, and many people had forgotten they existed. Crime is known to run rampant in these areas littered with different teams of crooks and thieves, thanks to their deranged revolutionary leaders. The only thing that supports those areas now is Galar’s help in maintaining nature preserves and sending new varieties of pokemon for trainers to catch. Nearly like PokeFarms.

Oleana shudders at the thought. Galar hadn’t had a gang in years. The closest thing to it came Piers and Marnie’s fan clubs. They were an annoyance at best.

“I’ve made my decision,” Rose breathes. “We’re not going to stop. Until they know for sure, I really don’t see the point. It’ll cause undue stress to both trainers and our audiences. The best rule of public management is to only let them know what they need to know,” he swivels back around. “and this, they don’t need to know.”

Oleana nods. “Consider it done, Mr. Chairman.”


	4. Hoenn.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After two weeks of being in the wilds of Hoenn, Hop runs into a familiar face. He brings with him an interesting catch--a Pikachu with a strange manner and even more strange markings.
> 
> Meanwhile, things in Galar are becoming uneasy. Tensions between Ghost and Leon run even higher, and the secret of Hop and Ghost's relationship makes its way to the media.

After patching up Sabre, he lays happily on my bed in my suite, silver hairs sticking in all directions. “Lucky bastard,” I breathe, petting his neck ruff. He exhales contentedly. After the battle he fought against Leon’s Charizard, I’m unsure if he’d be ready for fighting again any time soon. The burn scars on his haunches and shoulder are a bit much for me to handle—so I’ll just substitute him for a while. There are plenty of pokemon in my boxes that would serve the purpose. Sabre deserved the break—he'd been here for years now. Honestly, it might be time to retire him, but I can’t bring myself to not have him by my side.

The Mighyena let out a large yawn, and an indignant Yamper springs free from her pokeball before shaking into existence. “Neon,” I scold her, frowning. “You know better than that...” She barks, before disappearing into Sabre’s chest ruff, bits of electricity crackling through the static. I huff gently, chuckling. The Yamper was the complete opposite to Sabre. Young, tiny, and mostly inexperienced, the electric canine had a lot to learn about how to battle properly. She has a hard time listening, but her speed is so high, she makes a great first attack every time. Sabre grunts, and puts his foreleg gently over her tiny body, holding her closely. He exhales and closes his eyes again. The two were inseparable. I guess I’d have to take her off the roster, too. She wouldn’t do anything if Sabre wasn’t there, too.

I flop back onto the bed, closing my eyes and listening to the breathing of the pair, letting my mind drift to Leon. There’s something going on, as if he knows something he can’t tell me. From his closeness when we talk, to only hanging out in mostly private spaces—it was if he was trying to hide a dirty secret. What could it be? I grunt frustratedly, petting Neon’s muzzle. “I guess I’ll just have to ask him myself, huh?”

She huffs in response, as if to say, ‘You worry too much.’

“yeahhhh, yeah. I kno—oh!” I feel my phone buzz in my pocket. Flicking it open, my heart almost drops into my toes. “Heh…hello? H-hop?!”

A pause.

“Heya, did you miss me?”

Static crackles.

I scoff. “Miss you? I’ve been worried sick about you! What the hell, man? It's been almost two weeks and I don't hear anything from you?! Miss you? I'd rather kill you right about now!” I can’t help but chuckle.

He huffs back, “Ah, c'mon Ghost. You won't stay mad forever.” His voice is soothing, like honey in tea. I relish it, but also hate how easy it is for him to derail me. Aaaannnd, he's not entirely wrong. I won’t stay mad, but I won't forget either.

“Perhaps not,” I murmur, noticing Neon had since fallen asleep, “but I'm still pretty upset. Stuff with training and what not around here is getting crazy, you know? I feel like… I feel like I'm doing it all wrong, Hop. Leon is trying his best to teach me… but I just… I’m not cut from the same mold the two of you were.” I wish he would come home. I could use him here.

“It’d be tragedy if you were,” he laughs.

“Shut up.”

Rustling is heard in the background, as well as the zipping and unzipping of a tent flap, and he exhales into the phone, “Oh good,” he pauses. “She’s stil—”

Hop’s voice is cut off by a shrill cry of a creature, and I pull the phone away from my ear, cursing. “What the fuck?”

“Heh, she’s still here… uh, this Pikachu I caught… I er,”

“You put a wild Pikachu in your tent? Why is it screaming?” He’s an idiot. What was he thinking?

“Hold on a sec…” He breathes, the phone clattering to the side. I lean in to listen as the screams subside into whimpers, Hop shushing gently. “hey, hey… it's okay… I'm not here to hurt you, okay? I know you're in pain, but I'm trying to help…see?” The whimpers almost stop, and I can’t imagine what the scene is. Was it hurt? Sabre senses the sound and a single yellow eye gazes up at me, watching the phone closely. I pet him gently, still listening to the background.

“Mmh, yeah. There's a good girl... Yeah, you’re okay… Just breathe, okay?” The phone makes static as he picks it up again, huffing. “So yeah. I put a Pikachu in my tent, but that’s only because she wouldn’t stay in her ball,” he begins. “You would not believe the things I’ve found here in Hoenn, Ghost. It’s all extremely bizarre, and I’m not sure that it’s entirely normal, even for a place like this…” What was that supposed to mean?

“This Pikachu has got several of these… spots? I guess? I don’t know how to explain it, Ghost… but when I ran into her, she couldn’t get away, she just sat there and screamed, terrified of Dubwool. He didn’t even attack her, we just found her. When I got closer, it’s like it hurt her to move or something. I thought maybe she was paralyzed, but that’s not possible…” he trails, shushing it again. “Yeah, that’s right. Here, these don’t taste too bad, mmh, here you go. God, you were hungry, weren’t you? Poor thing.” Dubwool bleats, and Hop huffs. “You just ate, dingus. Here.”

I blink. “Spots? Like what? It’s normal to have fur color variations, you know that. Are her stripes in a weird place, you mean?”

“I dunno Ghost, she’s just got some lumps on different places on her body, and each one of them is pretty painful to the touch for her. I’m really starting to think I should take her into see the Professor—I don’t think this is something they can easily heal at the PokeCenter, and… I just wanted to call to see if that was okay with you…? ‘Cause I know this is where you sort of grew up, and I didn’t want to just barge into your life… it’s kinda why I called.”

Silence grows over the line. Is he asking… my permission? I huff. It wouldn’t be a horrible idea, but I’d really wished we’d gone together. There’s so much about my life there I haven’t told him, and I’m not sure if I’m exactly ready to share it, either. “Uhm, yes? If it’s what you think is best, then I trust your judgement, Hop. I’ve never known you to exaggerate… Just hope you run into Prof. Birch before you meet Brendan,” I joke, “because when you meet him, I’ll make much more sense, honestly.”

His breath gets choppy, as if he were crying.

I freeze. “Hop? Hey, are you oka—”

“God, this is so sad to see… and to be honest, I don’t think she’s the first I’ve seen—she’s just really in poor shape.”

I recoil a little, “Well, you found her, right? She’s in great hands if she’s with you, Hop. You have always had some of the gentlest hands when it comes to handling pokemon.” I sigh, sitting up, legs across the bed. Hop’s always had a soft spot for injured pokemon. “She’ll be okay, I know it.”

If he went to the lab… there’s no telling what Brendan would tell him about me. My cheeks flush a little at the thought. Brendan has known for years how much I’ve loved Hop. In the beginning, he’d seemed upset—why would I choose Hop over him? What did he have that Brendan didn’t? But eventually, Brendan understood. Hop was more than just a friend to me. He was my partner. But that didn’t mean that I loved Brendan any less, I just loved him differently. They both meant more to me than I could express.

He huffs sadly, sniffling. “Aw, she fell asleep… I guess the berries helped. I always knew Wiki berries were worth something, as bitter as they are.” Hop sniffles a little less, coughing. “Hey Ghost?”

“Yeah, Hop?”

“I’m really glad I came here.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. This… this right now,” he whispers, “I feel… whole. I feel like this is right. Like this is what I should be doing. Holding this creature, helping it… this feels like the most right thing I’ve done in ages… I think I’m going to be a Professor.”

I can’t help but stifle a chuckle. “Mhm. I could’ve told you that, silly.” Hop’s dedication and gentle nature would make him a wonderful Pokémon Professor.

\---

Brendan blinks in shock, seeing the tall, lankily built boy in front of him, half grinning, half grimacing. Brendan wasn’t sure whether to shake the kid’s hand or hug him tightly, he looks miserable.

Luckily, he offers the hand first. “You’re Brendan, right?” He offers, the other hand scratching the back of his head nervously. “I’m uh, I’m Hop! Ghost said you’d be a good person to meet while I was here, uh… I’ve heard a lot about you, heh.” he trails, becoming visibly uncomfortable, waiting on Brendan to respond.

Brendan laughs, pulling him into a tight hug. “Ah! Oh, she’s going to be thrilled to have found you! She’s been worried sick!” Brendan looks down at the now frozen Hop, laughing at the thick blush on his cheeks. “Eh? Don’t y’all hug your friends over there in Galar, hm?”

Flustered at the close contact from a thickly set stranger, Hop manages, “Heh, we usually go out to dinner first.” He laughs lightly, noticing just how squarely built Brendan is. ‘Bloody hell, they grow them big here in Hoenn, don’t they,’ he thinks.

Brendan chuckles, “Ah, well, let’s not keep ya out in the cold. Come on in and let me know what you’d like to drink, yeah?” He turns and opens the door for Hop, gesturing inside the warm shop, a sweet scent like oran berries pushing out the door. “You picked a great time to camp, didn’t ya? Nearly the coldest part of our season!”

Hop adjusts the bag on his back, hand still in his pocket, clutching the Pikachu’s ball tightly—it wobbled back and forth, as if trying to escape. “Not right now,” he gruffs under his breath, walking into the lab.

Everything about the space screamed ‘cozy cottage’. From the miscellaneous plants in pots and hanging from the ceilings, to large unkempt bookshelves nearly bursting with books, the whole place had a sense of home to it. As if this was a living workspace, not just a workspace. Where there were tables, there was paperwork and open books, scribbles of notes and leaflets of drawings. Brendan offers to take Hop’s coat and bags, and he obliges, having to let loose the ball in his pocket. He silently hopes she stays put… The weight of the bags lifted from his shoulders, he feels a million times better, the tension of the meeting at the front door dissipating. “Oh wow,” Hop breathes, stretching. “This… this whole place is gorgeous.”

Brendan nods, “Yeah… Dad and I don’t really get a say in what goes on in the house at home, haha. Mom dislikes our decorating style, you know, the whole… disorganized thing. So we just make a second home here. Ah, and, sorry about the mess in advance. We’ve been… working on a project.” He sits in a dilapidated rolling chair, relaxing.

Hop follows suit, crashing on the worn couch, sighing. “Oh wow, I’d forgotten how nice cushions were,” he laughs, leaning up on an elbow. “What kinds of projects?” Really, Hop was interested in the whole thing—from the lab to the job of being a professor… if it’s anything like this, he should’ve given up battling long ago. This whole place makes his heart sing, as if he’s been drawn to it his whole life and didn’t know until now.

The chair squeaks as Brendan leans back into it, looking as if it may break. “Ah, well. A disease project. Actually,” he thinks, sitting back up, “you may be able to provide some insight.” He goes to his Dad’s computer desk, picking up the folder of histology reports, and then handing it to Hop. “So, if you’ll look right here,” he points to the photo of the Charmander in ball 46. “Does that look familiar to you?” Brendan hoped he’d know it was his brother’s… he could get away with letting Ghost know about their findings if Hop was the one to tell her, not him.

Hop squints at the text. “Is that a tumor? And on a Charmander so big—wait. Is this from the babies my brother sent around? It has to be…” he trails, pointing to a pattern of lighter golden scales in the photo, “This is the girl of the litter… the only one, right? I remembered from when we had them in Postwick… I guess she ended up here.”

Brendan sighs, “Okay, so let me back up, then.”

“I’m listening.”

“She’s got a pokemon cancer that we think she inherited from her mom. Like a genetic pre-disposition, right?” Brendan moves some photos around, pointing at different ones. “We tried to find any information about your brother’s Charizard to verify, but any of it was removed sometime in the past year. See how all of this is redacted here at the bottom?” Brendan points.

“Yeah… that’s so weird…”

“Well there’s more.” Brendan leaves the photos in Hop’s lap, going to grab something off the shelf. Hop’s hands begin to shake as he looks through the slides. What ever this was, it seemed like it wasn’t getting better. There were even some pictures of deceased Pokemon, covered in different spots, bodies painfully contorted into their final, resting form. “God damn,” he coughs. “Brendan, these are horrible! Aren’t you all doi—” Hop stops, feeling the ball in his pocket again. “Wait a minute.”

Grunting as he carries a large bin of files in his arms, “What?” He sets it down at Hop’s feet with a thud. His eyes go to the photos in the kid’s hands and then to his face, nearly turned pale.

“How long have you known about this? How…?”

Brendan sits beside him, gently taking the photos. “Okay, so. It’s really not been too long that we’ve known. It showed up in the pathology reports for some of the pokemon that had been sent to us from Galar, but we weren’t sure why. They are all either children of trainer’s pokemon, or retired ones put in the boxes here in Hoenn, and they all had been extensively used to Gigantamax. You know about that. We think their problems are tied to it somehow. We’ve tried reaching out, but no one else seems to think it’s worth letting the public know…”

Hop nods, hands going to his pocket. “I have to show you this, Brendan,” he frowns, releasing the sick Pikachu into his arms. She looks painfully up at Hop, blinking at the bright light and crawling into the space between his chest and upper arm, whimpering. Slowly, Hop shushes her, and turns so that Brendan can get a better look. “I caught her about two hours north of here. Way out in the middle of nowhere—she was just out there, alone and like this… look at these spots along her back, gah.” Hop gently pets away her pale yellow fur, revealing the raised, dark knots in her skin.

Brendan freezes. “You didn’t catch her on one of the preserves…?”

Hop shakes his head. “I swear I was at least an hour walk from any kind of civilization.” His eyes begin to well, “I’ve never seen something like this, and I… it kills me to see her suffer. That’s why I came here, hoping we could help her,” His words trail on and on, but Brendan blinks, looking at the lesions, trying to think of how to put his next words carefully. If he didn’t catch it on a preserve… 

“Whatever this is… it’s spreading.”

\--

Time passes, and the two dig around in files for what seems like forever. The sun had way past gone down when Hop glances at the clock on the wall, frowning. Late. Like, 3 AM late. He stretches and yawns, petting the Pikachu beside him. She seemed to be doing a little better—with food, water, and some pain meds in her, she seemed at peace, finally. Hop sighs, head hitting the side of the bookshelf. “Well, we didn’t find much, huh?” They’d looked through almost every resource in the lab, and nothing to pinpoint this.

“Eh, it’ll be here in the morning. For the time being, everyone is cared for, and it’s late—we should probably sleep.” Brendan grunts, setting down the pencil in his palm. “You’re more than welcome to crash on the couch if you’d like. I think it’s going to get nasty tonight with snow, and Ghost’d never forgive me if I let somethin’ happen to you.” He stands to stretch, looking over at the kid with his Pikachu—Brendan can’t help but feel a hint of longing to know how things were going between him and Ghost. God, he misses Ghost more than he’ll say, but he knows that Hop is really what’s best for her. The money, the fame, the gentleness… really, Hop had it all, and Brendan would always be here to support her. Support from far away…. Was it really even support?

Hop nods, beginning to situate things on the couch. “Thank you, really. I was getting tired of sleeping bags, anyway.” He’s so exhausted, he could almost fall asleep sitting upright. He carries the Pikachu to his side and snuggles in with her, one arm behind his head as he stared at the ceiling. His eyes glance in Brendan’s direction, “Hey, uh. Speaking of Ghost…” he begins.

Brendan pulls himself to the desk to begin cleaning up quietly, “Yeah? What about her?”

Hop exhales slowly, as if thinking deeply, “God, this is going to sound stupid, but, you probably know more about her than I’ll ever know. I mean, she comes here every single summer, and she’s with you. The whole break. You know, she’s never told me hardly anything about it? She’s mentioned some of the things you both would do as kids, but nothing else, and I don’t think she ever will…” Hop remarks, resorting to picking at fingers in front of his face, eyes squinted in the half light. “This place has her heart, Brendan… and I know you do too…” he still stares at the ceiling, trying not to catch Brendan’s gaze. “Really, I just wonder... why did she ever say yes to me? To being my rival, to being... you know, uh, mine? I’m just a kid that’s always been there, you’re the guy who’s seen her be… you know, her. Without all the guarded bullshit she’s always doing.”

Brendan chuckles, sensing the kid’s despair. Ghost is a book shut with a billion locks, but that’s never changed. It’s just the way it was—Brendan had come to accept that. What he can’t accept is seeing Hop act like this. Like he was a victim in all of this. He lost a semi-final match, not his whole life. “You think she lets her guard down for me? Pfah. I’d kinda always thought the same about you, Hop. She doesn’t shut up about you to me.”

Hop’s cheeks begin to flush, “Really?” What all did Brendan know? Ghost... talked about him? To Brendan? He almost can’t believe it.

“Ghost could’ve chosen any rival she wanted, you know. Coulda been me, coulda been you, could’ve been anyone, even Victor, hell. Bede? Marnie? Any of those challengers that are your age...” Brendan pauses, turning to him, “but she came home every fall and chose you, Hop! If that’s not love, at least from her, I’m not sure what is.” Brendan chuckles. “You think she let's her guard down for me? Pfah. As if. She's always been private, Hop. That's just who she is.”

Hop makes a small sound, almost like a gasp. “Bugger, you’re right.”

“Yeah. You are good enough, Hop. For her, for any of that shit in Galar. I know it’s probably not easy having the Pokemon Champion for an older brother, but you are good enough, just the way you are. The way you helped in the lab today—you've got real promise, kiddo.” Brendan looms over him, hands on his hips. “Just stop being a dickweasel about it and own up to Ghost. You owe her that much, and I’d like to see the two of you shake things up in Galar. Show them that there's more out there than just the Championships or the city way of doing things. Show them that two knuckleheads from Postwick, together, are worth more than all the grandeur of Wyndon. The two of you could end up standing for a lot more than just Galar’s strength—with her background in Hoenn, you could end up standing for the entire world. The two of you have something special, I know that.” He breathes, giving Hop’s shoulder a loving shove. “Besides. You’re the only guy I’d ever choose for her anyway. No one else can handle her bullshit, not even me.”

“Thanks, Brendan, really.”

“Anytime, Hop.”

Exhausted, Hop sighs and rolls over, murmuring, “Night, Brendan.” before falling still.

Brendan huffs, wishing he could fall asleep that fast. Leaning over the table full of notes, he puts his face in his palms, rubbing the stress from his temples. “Mmh,” he groans, feeling his phone vibrate across the table. He lethargically picks it up, squinting at the message.

👻: turn on the world news

Me: its 3 am wtf

👻: not in Galar, dude. I’m freaking out, pls turn it on

Me: fine

Quietly, Brendan turns on the tiny television, plugging his headphones into the jack. It takes a moment to connect, but when it does, he can't help but curse. “Holy fuck.”

Me: when did that happen Ghost? I thought the two of you were supposed to be a secret

Stunned by the picture on the screen, he pauses it, blinking. In a grainy, shoddily taken photo, it’s obvious that Hop has Ghost pinned against a locker, the two of them in full, consummate embrace. There was no denying that the two were kissing--Ghost's fingers on his jaw, and his hands tangled in her hair, passionately pulling her to him. It made Brendan's heart ache.

Me: how did they get that photo

👻: it was right after I beat Leon. When I told Hop how I felt, just before he left… I swore there was no one there except Leon…and he was pacifying the press, I thought

Me: What're you going to do? Are you in trouble?

👻: I have a press conference in like, 15 minutes and idk if I’m going to be able to keep my shit together dude… why would they do that? Is Hop okay? If he hasn't seen, don’t tell him

Me: just play it cool. I guess the secret is out, huh.

Brendan looks over at Hop, now snoring into the couch cushion. He should be there. He'd be able to help her… wasn't that half Leon's job?

Me: what're you gonna say?

👻: I'm going to have to be honest I guess. And I’m also going to send it right back at them with the stuff the two of you found in Hoenn.

👻: I can't believe you didn't tell me, Brendan. Don't tell me that Hop figured that shit out on his own. He's smart, but he's not that sharp. Don't give me a reason to be pissed, dude… I don’t know who I can trust, but I hope it's you. No more secrets ok? I can't handle it.

After a sharp inhale, Brendan coughs. He should've known she was smarter than that. He'd just hoped…

Me: Be careful, Ghost. You know that could come back to us here, right???

The thought had crossed Brendan's mind...

👻: I’ve gotta go. Here’s to hoping this works. Love you. 

Me: love you too.


	5. Press Conference.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Expected to comment on the photo of her and Hop, Ghost must find a way to twist the audience to her liking, and still answer their questions.  
> Hop and Brendan tune in, underwhelmed at the event--Hop becoming more frustrated with Ghost the longer he's away.

I think to myself, sitting tall in a chair across the table from Chairman Rose and Oleana. Leon sits beside me, leaning back in the chair nonchalantly and talking a young reporter’s ear off about nothing of value. I can’t help but notice she’s blushing thickly at him, and fidgeting with the ends of her braids around her fingers. I scoff and stare straight ahead at the wall, sinking lower into my chair. Waiting on this press conference to start was like waiting on my own funeral. Oleana shoots me a glance, rapping the end of her pen on the edge of the table, “For the love of Arceus, Ghost, chin up, would you? You’ve the most awful look on your face…”

Rose smiles, chuckling. “Ah, now. It’s early for the poor thing. I’m sure 6 AM on a Wednesday isn’t what she had in mind.” His laugh is a gentle one, and I knew behind his perfectly lined teeth were plenty of things he wanted to say, but wouldn’t dare. Not here, anyway.

I wince. “Sorry,” I mutter, pushing my fingers to either corner of my mouth, mocking Oleana before I put my head down heavily on the table. The thud stops Leon from flirting with the reporter, and he nudges me playfully. “Ah, cmon, buck up, huh? I swear we’ll find you some coffee, but you’ve gotta get your head straight,” he laughs, turning back to the reporter. “You wouldn’t mind to do a favor for your former Champion, would you?” His voice is thick with honey, and I try not to roll my eyes hard enough for them to hear.

“Oh, of course!” She chimes, peeking around his shoulder at me, “Uh… Ms. Ghost, ma’am? Er… do you have a preference?”

I grunt through the exhaustion, “Just a regular cappuccino is fine… uhm. Maybe two extra shots of expresso if you can.”

The door opens and shuts with her exit, and I grunt. “What am I supposed to say again?” There was so much said on the way up here that I’d forgotten upon sitting down.

Leon rubs my back gently, giving a couple of pats. At least he was being gentle this morning.

Oleana frowns, huffing. “You have to play it off. You acknowledge that the kiss did happen, but that it was out of passion and frustration, and not out of love. The two of you are good friends and nothing more. You’re doing everything you can to be the future of Galar, and are looking forward to next season. It’s not that hard, Gho--”

“Easy, Oleana,” Leon warns, hand still against my back. It’s probably the only thing keeping me from losing it right now—the touch of another human.

I lean back in the chair, blinking in the bright lights of the conference room, pushing my hair back into my beret. “I’m okay. I’ve got it, I just... I needed a recap. I’m fine.” I take Leon’s wrist in my hand and squeeze it. “I’m good, really.” Knowing just where we stood with one another was so strange... At one moment, we were the best of friends, just like the three of us when we grew up in Postwick, and the next moment, he’s cryptic and strange. And sometimes... I feel like I have no idea who he is. My mind flicks back to the night previous and the conversation we’d had on the balcony of my suite in the tower.

_“You know, I know who you are. Hop does too. You’re serious and level headed, but when life throws you curveballs, you forget everything you’ve learned and lash out. You’ve got to use that calmness that I know is in you more often. And it wouldn’t kill you to schmooze the crowd a little. It’s not like you’re unattractive...” He trails._

_This much I knew, from the weird fan mail I kept receiving._

_He steps out into the moonlight, leaning on the railing, looking out over Galar. “But no one else even has a chance at getting close to you. You’re really sort of unapproachable, Ghost. You’ve got to find a way to open up, or at least pretend to. No more being silent when you get swarmed by papparazzi, no more refusing to comment. You have to say something. Thousands, if not millions of young trainers are looking up to you, as well as the general public... You’ve got to be a role model. Give them something to latch onto!”_

_“What are people saying?” I venture, standing beside him._

_He looks at his palms, and then back out into the night, sighing. “People don’t think you’re the right fit for Galar. Sure, you fight with passion and soul, but you’re awful young, and no one really knows anything about you. So, people have their rumors, and they spread like wildfire. Because there’s nothing to contend with, the rumors always win, and some of them aren’t pretty.”_

_“Tell me, Lee,” I beg._

_“I shouldn’t.”_

_“You have to.”_

_“The majority of people here think you’re Hoenn riff-raff. The summers you chose to spend there and in the other poor regions... those people are claiming you as their own. You’re overwhelmingly popular to trainers there, they see you as_ their _champion. Something simple that stands for their people and cultures, and that threatens everything the people of Galar have built. To them, you are a threat to our industry. If the other regions begin to believe that they can stand up to the strength and prowess of Galar and all of its modern technology, then we’re right back to where we started all those years ago.”_

_“Like a martyr?” I echo, looking up at him. His eyes blaze in the night, and I look away. So that means even the mail I receive is picked through… all of the letters from other places… I wonder what they said._

_“Exactly.”_

_“How do I fix it?” I exhale, leaning further over the railing. Heh, I could think of one solution..._

_Leon grabs the back of my shirt and firmly pulls me back over, staring down at me intensely. “You cut ties with them. At least publicly. You denounce Hoenn and all of your friends there, including Brendan and the Professor. You reinforce your growing up in Postwick, and anything in your life that you can possibly tie to the “greatness” of Galar, you do it. That includes publicly claiming Hop.”_

_I blink, looking up at him. “But I thought--”_

_“I know. That was before I heard about... well,” he lingers, releasing my shirt._

_“Spill!” I frown, taking his hands in mine. They were so large and warm... I put them against my chest, my own pressed to the top. I hope he can sense my sincerity. “Leon, this is how trust works.”_

_“Professor Magnolia sent a memo about my Charizard to Rose. She had a tumor on her wing, and turns out it was cancer. She thinks it's from dynamaxing her again and again, and she urged Rose to stop letting it happen in the stadium until they could find out more… I think it's affecting lots of Pokemon, but Rose has me on gag order. You being with Hop would serve as a distraction. That's why I've changed my mind.”_

_“Is that the only reason?”_

_“Well, and the fact that it may be the only way to boost your popularity. We have to do something, or it could get ugly, and I just want the best for you, Ghost.” He pulls me in, hugging me tightly, huffing._

_I relax, wrapping my arms around him likewise, face buried in his chest. Like a sunny day, the warmth from the hug leeches into my soul, and I felt the distrust from the past few days begin to fade. He was being honest, for once. I felt that._

_“I love you, kiddo. I just want to see you thrive, but you don't make it easy on yourself, do you?” He chuckles, chin resting on the top of my head, but then falls silent._

_I let the silence be._

_“You aren’t going to do as you’re told, are you.” It was a statement, not a question._

_“No.”_

_“Of course not,” he groans._

Leon's hand squeezes mine underneath the table, giving me a look that screamed, ‘Don't do anything stupid.’

I squeeze it right back. I'm doing this _my_ way. I made it here with my own strength, my own hard work… the only thing I needed from Leon was an endorsement. I did this.

But how do I do this without throwing any one of the people I love under the bus? If I tell them about the virus, they would know it came from Brendan and Birch... and if I denounce Hop... that could lead to rumors about Brendan. I never needed anyone to get here... why does it have to be me with someone else? I am here on my own, my own strength. If Leon wants me to be what Galar needs, then I’ll do it of my own accord.

The reporter from earlier returns with coffee, and brings a whole slough of other members, all of them clambering to get in. With large cameras being put into place, I swallow the apprehension in my throat. This is nothing new, just another press conference... I graciously take the coffee and pretend to act, leaning back in the chair, crossing my arms.

Rose scoffs, eyes narrowing at me.

I swallow.

Once everything is put together, the reporter begins her schpeel, and I feel the gazes in the room land on me. I sip the coffee tentatively, trying to keep my cool. The reporter hands me a copy of the photo they’d flashed on the news the night previous, and I smirk. The one in person was much better in quality—so much so that I could just make out the curve of Hop’s jaw, and his fingers pressed into my shoulders. I keep my composure, even though the image made my heart flutter.

“Tell us a little about what’s happening here? What’re you thinking? Are the two of you together now? You know, you both would make an adorable couple, in my opinion. ” The reporter offers, setting the recorder in front of me on the table. She smirks almost apologetically, as if it were embarrasing for her as well.

I shrug, sipping the coffee, nodding. “I mean, it is what it looks like.” Let them decipher that.

Oleana urges me to continue speaking, and I smile, trying to think about what comes next. “I reached out, and I kissed him. He's my rival, but, in the heat of the moment, it was all passion. We've always had this energy between us, and I just gave into it… it didn’t mean anything.” I trail.

“Or by the looks of it, he gave in to you, eh?” She taps the photo where I was pressed against the locker.

I swallow. “I think the passion in the heat of the moment was mutual, I don’t think he meant anything by it either. It was just a really hard-fought battle, and there was a lot of tension to let out afterwards—I think that’s just how it happened to manifest.” I can’t believe I’m doing this… my heart physically hurts. How am I supposed to tell him?

“Like I said, we’ve kind of always been a close-knit training unit, and it’s not like this reaction would’ve been a surprise to anyone back home. We all know that anything Hop does he does with a 110 percent.” I laugh. “But honestly,” I murmur, changing the subject in stride, “after all these questions about me, I have a question for you.”

Leon huffs, trying to interject, “Hah, she’s so cryptic, isn’t she? Gh--”

“No, wait, let me just ask,” I begin taking another sip of the coffee, sighing contentedly, “Do you all treat your Champions of other regions this way?” I laugh. “I mean, I don’t ever hear any drama on Red or May or any of those champions... why am I suddenly a hot topic? It’s not that I don’t _love_ the attention,” I wink at Leon, “Sorry, Lee. More for me, huh?”

His eyes narrow. ‘You’re a fucking idiot,’ they scream.

“Oh, hah, sharing the limelight with you is more than sufficient. You do attract so much attention I’m sure there's enough to go around.” He retorts, adjusting his hat.

Ouch. I smirk. “Ah! Cheeky!” I laugh.

The reporter can't help but break a small smile at breaking away from the Hop question, as well as the useless banter between Leon and I. “Tell us maybe then how you feel about that? So many of your fans know you don't love the publicity, but why? I've always been so curious to know why you avoid us so heavily… any huge secrets? Deep, crazy backstories?”

Rose looks at Oleana, who's scribbling something on a pad. They’re probably losing their patience with me… I bolster myself.

“I think it's sort of ridiculous, really, all of this coverage. There’s so many other leagues and rising stars out there, I'm just like them, working every day to train my partners to be the best they can be. Yes, I worked my ass off to get here, and yes I'm only 22, and yes I am probably the exact opposite of Leon, but that’s what I think makes the Championships great! That someone who works hard can earn the title of Champion. Someone like me. When Leon won, no one asked him about his love life or where he came from, because he was such a strong trainer…”

I look over at him, offering my hand on the table. He looks at it a moment, processing. I smile. A real smile this time.

He takes it, lightening a little. He seems less stressed about this. Great.

“I proved that I'm strong too. Without Hop or Leon, I wouldn’t be here. Leon gave me the knowledge to start, and Hop made me strong. I can't thank either of them enough, but what does our private relationships have to do with it? It’s not a huge surprise that we’ve all been together, I mean, hell. We were all neighbors growing up in Postwick. That’s all any of us are—Postwick kiddos.” I state, squeezing Leon's hand. I hope at least showing that he and I were close was worth some solidarity in those fans' minds, as well as showing my love for Galar. I just hope it’s enough… “But, our private lives mean nothing in respect to the hard work we each individually put in to our battling. I am strong on my own and deserve the same respect as every other champion in the world. Respect of my hard work and training; my personal life shouldn’t be everyone's personal life. I want what's best for the growth of Galar, and I know that only covering me won't exactly do that.”

The reporter nods. “Bold words from a bold new champ.” She seems genuinely impressed. “Well, we all know that coverage has to go somewhere! If we don't cover you, what would you suggest, if you mind my asking? What do you see being the most beneficial?”

I open my mouth to reply.

“Oh my, we would never dream of telling the media what to do!” Rose laughs, adjusting his hair. “We can only be thankful for the coverage you do choose to give us. Without you, no one would know the greatness of Galar.”

The reporter inhales, as if steeling herself as well, “Thank you so much for the kind words, Mr. Chairman, but…” she takes a breath, “I think we’d like to hear Ghost’s take on it.”

I cough in disbelief, almost choking on my coffee. Holy shit. Did she just… holy fuck, fuck, fuck… I swear that Oleana might explode as I glance at her, nearly cracking her pen in two.

I sip my coffee, nodding softly. “Mmh, if you’re sure?”

The reporter nods. “Of course! After all, this is the most we’ve gotten out of you to date, I am just buzzing with the chance to hear more!” It seems as if the cameras zoom in a little more, and I smile. This is getting harder by the moment. Everything in me wanted to simply disappear from this plane of existence, really. Do I say something about Hoenn at this point after solidifying my love of Galar? Or do I leave that for another time? But then more pokemon could be affected by the disease by then…

My mind flicks to Brendan. What would happen to him and his dad if I said something? Would they be taken down, just like Magnolia’s research? Rose and Oleana wouldn’t… hurt them, would they? I try taking another sip of the coffee to buy some time, but I realize it was nearing empty. There goes that tactic… but maybe they didn’t have to know it was empty. Then, my gaze shifts to Rose. His calm blue eyes look over me, as if he already knew what I was going to say. Even his demeanor shifts into stillness, now leaning back into the chair. It’s terrifying.

Is this a trap? Is he goading me? I feel the back of my throat turn to sandpaper, and I desperately wish for this to be over…

* * *

“ _…my rival, but, in the heat of the moment, it was all passion. We've always had this energy between us, and I just gave into it…”_

Hop stares at the screen, open mouthed. He can’t believe what he’s hearing. “Are you fucking me?” He manages, setting the broth at his lips down again, stunned.

Brendan freezes too, hand falling still on Dubwool’s fleece. “I don’t understand, why would she…?” Those had to be fed answers, she would never say something like that…

Slowly, Hop stands, almost wobbly on his feet, as if he might fall over. Brendan sticks an arm out, catching the kid at his hips, looking up at him worriedly, “Hop? You okay?”

Dark curls framing his face, he shakes his head. “No… I… I don’t feel well all of the sudden.” Not feeling well is a lie. He’d rather be dead right now. To be reduced by Ghost to nothing more than a ‘heat of the moment’ love, and publicly at that… How did it come out like this? He never expected her to say anything about the two of them, but for it to be nonchalant and just a passing phase, he couldn’t process. She told him she loved him. She told him that he was good enough. She told him that he was hers… and none of that had just come from her mouth. He steadies himself from Brendan’s arms, knuckles white on the edge of the table.

“Look, I’m sure that there’s something else going on.” Brendan gruffs. “I mean, look at her face! You can’t tell me that she isn’t acting her ass off right now, Look, Hop!”

He reluctantly turns his gaze to the screen and watches as a camera zooms in on her and his brother clasping hands in the middle of the table. Eventually it pans back to her face, and she’s drinking coffee, smiling. And even laughing! The continued banter between her and his brother makes him uncomfortable. He searches remorse in her face, some kind of… uncertainty… but he can’t find any.

“Tch. I don’t know what you’re seeing. Looks perfectly normal to me, Brendan.”

Brendan groans, putting his face in his hands, thumbing his temples, but then he gasps quietly in realization. “Or,” he begins.

Hop staggers from the table to the couch, trying to compose himself. He’s so upset he’s having a hard time even seeing straight, much less thinking it. He lands with a shuff, and Dubwool bleats, curling up at his feet. He stares straight at the wall rather than Brendan, trying to keep it together.

“Or she’s trying to protect you, dumbass.” Brendan stares at the TV, pausing it. “Something in her voice… Hop, she’s not being serious. There’s something else going on. I don’t know wha—”

“Or maybe she’s got it in with my brother now,” Hop interjects, pointing at the shot. He notices how small her hands look in his. “Why would they do that otherwise? Hold hands on national news broadcast? Maybe we’ll see Polaroids of their make-out sesh next.” Even Hop knows that’s a stretch—Ghost had always been too intimidated by Leon to date him. She never could get over how made-up he was all the time, and how over the top he was. He was too city for her. But none of that mattered, Hop just needs someone to be pissed at—Leon seems like the easiest choice right now.

Brendan huffs. “No, Hop. We can’t know what all is going on up there, okay? Maybe she’ll call after this and explain, but I know she’s not serious, there’s just something…” He presses play again, feeling sick at his stomach with the possibilities. It wasn’t like Ghost to even talk to paparazzi, but to be talking, laughing, and spilling details about her personal life? It had to be a cover up for anything else.

_“I am strong on my own and deserve the same respect as every other champion in the world. Respect of my hard work and training; my personal life shouldn’t be everyone's personal life.”_

“See? She’s just toying with them. She just gave them a ‘please fuck off’ in the nicest way I could imagine,” Brendan adds. “She’s trying to protect you. I don’t know from what, but it seems pretty heady.”

Hop pets Dubwool, seeming to calm down the longer he sits, concentrated on it. “What if I want to protect myself? Why does she get the right to do it for me?” After all, he’d made it to semi-finals, too. That had to be worth something. He might not be as strong a battler as Ghost, but he’s still a strong person. He must remind himself of that.

“Whatever, Hop.” Brendan retorts, slowly standing to clean up the dishes. “You know, if you would stop thinking so much about yourself, then maybe you could realize that she’s under probably more stress than either of us can imagine. She’s not cut out for this, and she’s doing the best she can. If she uses us as collateral damage, that’s probably the safest thing she knows to do. She knows we are here for her regardless, and what she says and what she means are different things. She can’t say things like this about other people—they’re likely to get back at her and cause more trouble… but with us, Hop, she trusts us. This isn’t about you. This is about how she’s trying to manage, and the quicker you see that, the better things are going to go for the both of you.”

Groaning, Hop leans back into the couch, now staring at the ceiling. He’s ready to burst with something; anger, tears, things he shouldn’t say, it would all come out soon. He knows Brendan’s right. “I’m glad you know her so fucking well, dude. Actually, remind me again why she didn’t just stay here with you? Since the two of you just know each other so well, yeah? I don’t really fit into any of this, and I can’t believe it’s taken me this long to see that maybe I’m not the one for her—”

Cut off by a deadly glance from Brendan, Hop can’t help but wilt into the couch more. Brendan wasn’t buying this act from the kid. He seemed to go from 0 to 150 real fast, in whatever emotion he was having, and the insecurity made Brendan want to scream. This guy had no clue how lucky he really was. With never having to worry about so many things, it made sense to Brendan how he could only worry about himself—that’s all he had.

“You’re an idiot. Shut up and watch the rest of the broadcast, would you?”

“Fine.”

* * *

“You should do more coverage on other regions that we haven’t seen anything from in a bit,” I begin, slowly. “For example, I know it’s no secret to anyone anymore that I used to go every summer to spend time in Hoenn at the nature preserves, and training my team up, but I never see any coverage there at all. There’s tons of interesting interactions between trainers and pokemon, and you never know who is going to be there! It’s like a minefield of celebrities. I think I even saw Gary Oak there once—I almost fainted!” I laugh, trying to seem sincere. “You see, I’ve always been a huge fan of him, cause he’s just got this ‘can do no matter what’ kind of attitude, and, guh,”

“Okay, okay, so you want us to… cover other regions?” The reporter seems confused.

I nod, “I mean, yeah! Like I said, while most of the trainers in Galar start out stronger and better than trainers in other regions because of how supported the sport is here, I’d really like to see coverage on the up and coming trends in other places. I mean, take my friend Brendan for example. He beat the Hoenn Elite Four when he was only 18, and then decided he wanted to work as a professor! He never got any huge coverage, even though that’s _super_ young for a champ. Insight on these trainers could help those of us in Galar to do even better, and learn from those trainer’s tactics.”

Leon relaxes into his chair, now seeming content with everything. His hand rests on my knee underneath the table, and I smile over at him. “After all, I learned everything I know by the coverage that Leon got when he was going through the challenge. Without it… I would’ve never seen some of those amazing matches.” How am I supposed to get word out about the dynamaxing…?

“Ah, so like a trainer watch kind of program, huh?” She clarifies. She scribbles some things down and shifts the camcorder, also looking at her watch. “Oh my, look how time has flown! I think we only have time for one more question—if I may?”

I nod, but Oleana slips the reporter her notepad, eyes like daggers pointed at me.

‘Fuck.’

“Oh! This is much better than what I had,” the reporter nods, looking over the bullets. “There seems to have been some controversy over whether or not dynamaxing actually adds anything to the matches here in Galar. Energy advocates say it’s a waste of resource, but others claim it truly amplifies the level of battle. What’s your take on this hot topic?”

I swallow. “Uhm, well. I’d have to think on that one a second.”

“We don’t have much time, Ghost,” Rose taps his watch, smirking.

Definitely a trap.

“Ah, well. I dunno, actually. I have dynamaxed my pokemon before, and as a battler, I can definitely attest to how it really gets the crowd growing…” Think, Ghost. Just be honest, that’s really all you can do… “but in the eyes of cleaner energy advocates, I’d have to say that we aren’t looking at the real problem here. After all, we benefit greatly by the jobs gigamaxed pokemon can perform, but what about the pokemon themselves?”

Leon’s hand on my knee tightens, but nothing in his face changes. ‘What are you doing???’ It says. I can do this without throwing him under the bus, hopefully. These people need to know what this can do to their partners, their pokemon…

“I’ve always wondered what happens to their bodies when they have to go through that much of a change? Does it hurt them? I’ve always thought that I understood my pokemon, but sometimes they just don’t act the same right afterwards. Like they’re out of it or something. I’m not saying they’ve ever been in obvious pain, but they just… you know. I don’t know. So if I were to sum it up, I’d like to see some more stats on that, and then maybe we can get a bigger picture. Maybe taking a look into Professor Mag—”

“I think that’s all the time we have for today,” Rose murmurs, hand softly on the reporter’s shoulder.

She shudders, and nods. “Well, it has been a pleasure to actually pin you down today, Ghost. We’ll take your advice, and maybe come back around to see you!” She offers her hand and I graciously take it.

“Of course! I can’t wait until then!”

After a few moments, everyone leaves, just Leon and I sit at the table. As soon as the door snicks shut, Leon lets out a huge exhale, face in his hands.

“What?! What did I do? I don’t understand…?” I say, looking at him.

“The first half was fine, the bit about Hop and Galar and whatnot, but Ghost… do you think Rose is stupid?”

“What?”

“I said, do you think he’s an idiot? He knows that dynamaxing isn’t great, but there’s a reason he put me on gag order! Ghost, I trusted you with the information about Charizard! We were supposed to find another way… You pretty much just told him that I told you. You just told the world to do their own research, and they’re going to find out. There will be hysteria if people know what we know… you can’t just say things like that!”

I shake my head. “Well, if you think that’s the worst thing, we should go get brunch then.” I murmur, looking around the room for any signs of recording equipment. “I am starving.”

“Ghost, you’re thinking about food? Are you ki—”

“Leon,” I stand up, face near his, looming over him precariously, “lets. get. brunch.”

The near threat registers in his facial expression, and he stands, “Yeah. Brunch is good.”

Before I leave the room, a text buzzes in my pocket, and I flick it open, frowning.

Chairman: After brunch, you should be more than free to join me in my suite of the tower to toast your success to a wonderfully spoken global broadcast.

Suddenly, I am no longer hungry.


	6. Brunch.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ghost, Leon, and Raihan meet for brunch after the press conference. Ghost tells them about Hop and Brendan's findings. Raihan urges Ghost to be careful with this information, but Leon leaves unexpectedly. 
> 
> After another reminder of the strength Galar has over the world, Ghost's resolve to do something about it is steeled--just as she has a conversation with the Chairman.
> 
> Rose makes a bet with Ghost in exchange for a gag order--all or nothing exhibition matches for her title.
> 
> The news makes it to Hoenn, and Hop isn't apprehensive anymore--he's pissed.

I stare at my plate of curry, watching as the vapors waft up from it, warm and heavily flavored. A glass of water condensates in my palm, but I can’t pull my hand from it—I’m too caught up in thinking about what Rose sent.

_“After brunch, you should be more than free to join me in my suite of the tower to toast your success to a wonderfully spoken global broadcast.”_

What could he possibly say? The conference hadn’t gone as well as planned, but it still went better than it had in the past. Remembering how abruptly he cut me off when mentioning Magnolia still chills me. After reading that message, I’d decided to leave my phone in my room—I still wasn’t sure how Rose had managed to hear me asking Leon to brunch, and I had an inkling my phone had been tapped.

“Ghost,” Leon breathes, bringing his mug to his lips. “Just breathe. It won’t be that bad. He’s a scary guy, but not like, kill your family scary.”

I wish I agreed. I claw my way from the thoughts and look around the café, focusing on things that weren’t thinking. I notice this place is one of those where well to do people ate—no one got in without a collared shirt. I feel so out of place, but next to Leon and Raihan, they help, dressed nicely. Raihan takes his suit coat off, putting it on the back of the chair as he sits next to Leon, smiling. “Ah. Nothing like brunch on such a dreary day,” he offers, “and in the company of Galar’s finest, it seems,” he looks over at me still frozen to my glass of ice water.

I nod slightly, acknowledging him coldly. I still don’t feel comfortable trusting him after the fight at the rec pitch—but he and Leon are close, and that would have to be enough for me.

Leon hugs him, laughing lightly. “Aw. Glad you could come! It’s been a bit since I’ve seen your ugly mug, eh?”

I glance out the window at the now pouring rain. The two of them are nearly sickening—it’s obvious they’re together, but they try so desperately to hide it.

“Not long enough,” Raihan chuckles. “And by the way, Lee’s right, Ghost.” He puts a palm on my shoulder, blue eyes softening. “Rose is really not that bad once you get past his cryptic nature. He doesn’t deal with me much because he knows I’m too dense to understand him.” The dark-skinned gym leader nearly leans against Leon in the upholstered booth, looking more relaxed than he had been in a while.

Leon jolts back from sipping his coffee, hissing. “Agh, hot!” A bit of it splashes to his white dress shirt, and he groans. Raihan fusses over him, mumbling something under his breath, “…can’t take you anywhere, Arceus.”

I flinch from the noise, but keep my gaze out the one-way window as people pass, my elbows on the edge of the wooden table and face in my palm, “They make napkins for that, you know?”

Leon scoffs. “Thanks, Ms. Sarcasm.”

Silence grows between the table as the two of them interact, and I can’t help but look over and break a smile. Just at the edge of Raihan’s gaze, I catch how lovingly the pair looks at one another. The fussing from Raihan was gentle as he dabs at Leon’s shirt, and pure warmth radiates from Leon as he watches lovingly. The two are similar to Hop and I, I realize—Hop usually the one who is fussing over me, more than eager to please. Leon catches me watching perhaps a bit too closely and I quickly flick my eyes away. I wonder if he’d ever noticed something like that between Hop and I… I tap my fingers on the drinking glass, trying to keep my thoughts contained to the back of my mind—today seems a difficult day for that—I still have to figure out how to tell Leon about Hoenn.

“You know, the two of you should try backpacking in Hoenn sometime. Ever had a chance to get out that far?” I offer. Maybe they’d bite…

Raihan snorts incredulously. “Hoenn? That place is a ghost town nowadays. Why, I don’t think there’s anything out there but trees and water and more water.”

I blink. “Um. We have trees and water here too… ah. You know what? Yeah, you’re right. There’s not much out there, heh.” I resign. This obviously isn’t going to go well with him here. Raihan isn’t necessarily the sharpest crayon in the box. I try again, “But, you know who did end up going to Hoenn?” I ask, finally making eye contact with the pair. “Hop.”

“Aaah! Your kid brother, huh?” Raihan jests, elbowing Leon in the side. “What possessed him to go out into the wilderness? You two didn’t get into a brawl again, did you?” He winks, chuckling. “After what I saw in the news, Ghost, I’d figured the two of you’d be snuggled up in that tower do—”

Leon coughs forcefully, laughing. “Easy, Rai. Wouldn’t want to give ‘em any ideas. That’s my little brother you’re talking about.”

Raihan’s face feigns shock, “Oh… you mean, the two of you haven’t…” he makes a gesture in reference, and I look away trying not to blush. Of course we hadn’t—and I really wish that people would stop asking. I love Hop for certain, but those other things… I just can’t make myself feel it. I never have. Probably never will. It just isn’t relevant, really.

“What I meant to say is,” I begin, flustered, “Hop and my friend Brendan found something disturbing there, more so than the apparent lack of amenities,” I pause, eyeing Raihan. “Lee, your Charizard never had cancer. She had a virus that grew like cancer. And all the Pokémon we sent to the preserves that could Dynamax? They have it too. Then from there, it evolved. Whatever the disease is, its spreading to Pokémon who have never Dynamaxed. It’s killing the wild populations in those regions.”

Leon freezes, mug halfway to his lips.

“Hop… he caught a Pikachu—she’s fairly young and wasn’t kept on the preserves—she had it. Whatever these Galar Pokémon had that we sent to the regions for catching, it’s spreading. It’s fast, and lethal.” I fight back the anger in my voice, as people were noticing three major league challengers sitting together. I feel the luxury of privacy seeping away the more I speak. I lean further in, “I knew all of that before we went in today. Hop told me, and I had to keep it in!” I lower my voice, realizing I’m terrified. “Why did I keep it in?” I echo, the static in my ears attempting to resurface. I place my shaking hands in my lap, hoping to still them.

“Cause you wouldn’t have gotten the chance to again, if you hadn’t,” Raihan breathes, offering his hand across the table, eyes wide. He isn’t joking anymore—his usual jovial nature disappears nearly instantly, and he glances at Leon who managed to drink more of the coffee nonchalantly. Why is Leon playing this off? I practically just told him the entirety of Hoenn is fucked, and he’s just polishing off another cup?

Slowly, I place my shaking hand in Raihan’s outstretched fingers. He puts his other hand over my own, eyes locking with me. “This is deadly information, you know that, right?” His eyes search mine. “Ghost, you need to get them both out of there. Get them to Unova, to Alola, or somewhere else. If you want a fighting chance to do something… they need to be not there.”

Leon stands abruptly and leaves the table, hands behind his head. I hadn’t gauged his reaction, and my water glass shatters on the floor, making an older woman yelp at the sound. A waitress hurriedly comes our way, but I’ve already dropped to my knees and started picking up the pieces, apologizing. “Bloody hell,” I curse, picking up the larger shards. “I am _so_ sorry… It was an accident, I didn’t mean—” I freeze when Raihan grabs my shoulder, pulling me forcefully back up. The jolt slices my palm deeply on a sharp edge, and I inhale sharply, feeling the blood begin to pump from the wound.

“Hey, don’t you know that that’s a waitress’s job? Are you an idiot? Look at you!” He stands me up, looking shocked at the blood oozing from my palm. But I don’t care for his lecture—I’m too busy looking at all the other patrons and the waitress herself staring at me, shocked.

Raihan squeezes my palm, his hands now shaking. He barks at a gentleman next to us to grab some cloth napkins, and eyes the waitress. “Don’t you know better than to have such cheap glass here? Tch, I mean, c’mon! It didn’t even fall that far.” He scolds.

She’s young, I notice. Probably around 15, and she’s got a marking on her neck that I don’t notice until she bends over with the small broom, sweeping the pieces into a pan. I nearly gasp aloud. There’s no mistaking the small red geometric symbol—a branding given to people who were sold into indentured servitude.

When Galar discovered wishing stars almost two hundred years ago, they became the major supplier of energy for the Pokémon world. From then, the region grew to power—they had the means to control markets for energy and perverted the role into dictatorship. The Chairman of Galar now was the president of all regions, and Galar the new hotspot for industry, technology, innovations, everything.

Forced to give up their own power supply operations to cut competition with Galar’s wishing stars, Kanto, Johto, and Hoenn’s economic markets plummeted, and people became desperate for any opportunity to get out of those regions—except they couldn’t afford to move, or make a life from nothing in Galar. To have promise for their children, parents gave them as indentured servants to Galar in exchange that they would get an education, housing, and a shot at a better life. Anything was better than staying in a dying town.

Dragging my eyes from the marking, I can’t help but stare at Raihan’s thumbs pressed into my hand, red dripping around it. Why doesn’t it hurt more than it does? It’s throbbing, but it’s a dull throb. It’s numb.

The waitress scoops up the pieces with a broom and nods at me, as if she understood. She saw me trying to help, and acknowledged it. “I’m very sorry for the inconvenience, Taibhse.”

I nod back, breath stuttering. Galarian Gaelic. I haven’t heard my name said like that in years. It’s a sign of respect. A sign of the common people. A language that was banned almost thousands of years ago, but kept in small circles as a tradition.

Raihan snatches the cloth napkin and wraps it firmly over my palm, rubbing the rest of the blood on another. “You’ve got to get stitches in that thing, Ghost, fuck.”

“I know.”

It’s not long until the stitches are in place, and Raihan is practically dragging me back to the tower. In the process, there’s a few things that I noticed about him—things that while he was with Leon, I may have otherwise missed.

The first of which, is that he is completely and utterly clueless. Not the fact that he’s always thinking about himself, but he just doesn’t pick up on a lot of things that go on. He’s very one-track minded. He's also actually very caring. He stuck by my side every moment of the procedure, squeezing my free hand when I needed it. In reality, he was more caring than Leon, which surprised me.

“You're a piece of work, you know that?” he smirks down at me. “Leon mentioned you were a handful, but never like this.” His arm latched in mine was supportive, but also obviously leading us through crowds that were gawking at the two of us together—a combination that hadn't happened before, at least like this.

Upon reaching the tower, Rose is waiting out front, leaning against the frame. My heart drops into my toes.

Raihan notices, leaning into me. “You'll be fine.”

I swallow. Sure.

“Ah, finally. How was brunch?” Rose smirks, offering my his arm to me, and I reluctantly take it, leaving the comfort of Raihan.

Raihan nods softly. “Pleasant, obviously,” gesturing to my wrapped hand. “Can't take her anywhere, can we?”

Rose laughs lightly. “Ah, guess not. Thank you for looking after her, though,” he breathes, glancing down at me. “Glad it wasn’t worse, hmm?”

I shudder. “Certainly.”

* * *

“So, we’ll cut straight to the chase,” he begins, pouring a glass of white wine, before setting it in front of me.

I nod, taking it, sipping softly, eyes never leaving his. One glass. That's all I dare indulge in. But with my lack of eating at brunch…

“Good, no?”

It’s horrible, actually. I stopped drinking shortly after the summer I turned 21 with Brendan. I don’t remember most if it, but that was the point. The taste of alcohol made my stomach turn.

“Mmh, not bad. I'm a red wine person myself.” I manage, taking another long sip from the glass.

Rose laughs. “Ah. I could’ve guessed.” His eyes look over me top to bottom hungrily as if I were worth nothing more than a common whore. I retreat into the seat with my glass, huffing.

“You did well today, really.” He starts, pouring his own glass. The bottom of bottle clicks as it hits the desk. His fingers wrap lightly around the stem of the glass, bringing the rim of it to his lips.

“Glad to hear it,” I breathe.

“But what didn’t go as well, is you sticking your nose in the information from Magnolia.” His emerald eyes are serious, and I look down into my glass. “Seems that even the Unbeatable Champion can't keep his mouth shut about private matters to you. Regardless,” he smirks. “since you know about our whole situation thanks to your boyfriend, I’d like to enlighten you on a few things, so drink up, dearie.”

I stop mid-sip, ice growing in my veins. “And how might you know that?” I begin, polishing off the glass. The alcohol relaxes me slightly, but I would have to be careful not to lose myself. A glance at his expression verifies my anxiety about my phone.

“You're smarter than that, Ghost.”

My heart begins to throb in my chest, and I grip the stem a little tighter, asking for another glass. He obliges.

“It's easy to point fingers, but be careful where. I am not an evil person. I simply want what is the best for all the world. This disease, it’s a way to help the overpopulation in the poorer regions—with clearing out unnecessary and weaker Pokémon, there’s a chance for economic development in those regions that can help bolster the lives of people living there. It’s contained, and of no relevance to you, I assure you,”

“You know it’s spreading to other Pokémon, right? It’s going to wipe out the entire island if you’re not careful. Brendan and Birch both know that. What about Magnolia, huh?” I begin, setting the glass down. “She knows it too, but you’ve got her on gag order, and she’s too old to do anything about it. There’s got to be a better way than to murder thousands of Pokémon. You’ve already made those people sell their children into slavery, now you’re taking away their livelihood? That’s not going to happen. You didn’t care about them then, and you don’t now.” I bluff. I hope what Leon mentioned about the Champion having more influence than the Chairman was true. “I can’t let you do this. I won’t. I will spin every media market that I have to--”

“Highly unlikely.” He smirks, unfazed. “Maybe this will change your mind.” He leans over, pulling a file from his desk, and I realize that I’d stopped breathing. I inhale quietly, blinking away the lightheadedness. From across the large desk, Rose slips a packet to me marked minimally, ‘Ghost.’

I take the packet, glancing at charts. They all had a downward trend but were unmarked.

“Those are your ratings for the past month, since you’ve become Champion. Even in the beginning people were wary of you. From your Lowland Galar heritage, to your steely outward appearance—comparing you to Leon was more than just oranges to apples. Different is good, Ghost. But you are another kind of trainer completely.” He takes another sip from his glass, relaxing into the large upholstered chair, flicking his hair from his face. “There’s more to becoming a Champion than brute strength and passion. You need a broader set of skills than that. Skills that you have proven incapable of subscribing to regardless how much we’ve all tried to be patient with you.”

“This whole disease project was never for you to understand. Do you really think any reporter will take you seriously with the things you’ve said so far? To spill radical information about an obscure disease project that no one has any way to access or even prove? Maybe you aren’t as intelligent as I thought, Ghost. Honestly, if Birch had never stuck his nose where it didn’t belong, then you wouldn’t be in this predicament. I should’ve known better than to trust Hoenn riff-raff anyways. Reports from him and his son have always been less than stellar.”

The pit of dread that grew in my belly began to fade as anger begins to replace it. Oak, Elm, and Birch were behind some of the most important innovations, including the Pokedex. Riff-raff? “Without them, you wouldn’t have half the things you have today in your over-stuffed, over-produced tower. Everything in it was made with materials from those regions, built on the backs of their people with tech they’ve perfected over hundreds of years. You have no right to do this! This is genocide!” I shout, now standing over the desk. “I will get this out. I will find a way.” I’m not scared anymore. I’m pissed.

“But you won’t.” He takes no heed to my anger, almost as if it pacified him more. “Because I know you have a bleeding heart for that godforsaken wilderness, but you have a bigger soft spot for those two boys. It’d be a shame if something went wrong in that research lab.”

I freeze, breath hitching. If he was willing to take out an entire region of Pokémon… Brendan and Hop would be nothing to him. Only collateral damage. I snap my mouth closed, unable to retort except to stare at him, wide-eyed.

“Ah, that’s better. You know, I’ve been trying to get you to open up, but I think I like it better when you’re quiet.” He stands, glass still in his hand, approaching me.

My heart thuds again, but I stand my ground. I didn’t have anywhere to flee to.

Standing now in front of me, he towers over me, almost a whole head taller. “But, as far as I’m concerned, if you can keep your mouth shut, the two should have no trouble. Besides. We wouldn’t want Leon to lose his head over his little brother, huh? And knowing you might have had something to do with it…What a rift between the two of you that may cause… But, don’t worry. After all you’ve done to make a fool out of Galar, I should’ve had you dismissed like Bede. But, to show you my sincerity in protecting your friends…I’ll even make you a deal.” His hand reaches out to my jaw, pulling me closer to him. His fingers nearly dig into my neck, but I don’t dare pull away. I can’t make myself, knowing any wrong move could be deathly to Hop and Brendan. His emerald eyes sear mine, still as pleasant as ever. It’s sickening.

“I’m listening,” I hiss.

“I’m sure,” he smirks, grabbing my bandaged hand and giving it a tight squeeze. I wince.

“I’ll bring them both here for you and even give your ratings a boost, hm? Fans really want to know how strong you are, even against someone you care for—especially after the near scandal between you and Hop. I couldn’t believe the raw strength you put to him and his team the first time you both met on that pitch, oh!” His hand trails down to my shoulder, smirking. “You really crushed him, didn’t you? He couldn’t stand to be around you after that…”

I force myself to remain still, even if my hands couldn’t stop shaking. His eyes goaded me into defending Hop.

“Let’s try that one again, shall we? Make it a little more interesting… All or nothing. Exhibition match, but for your title. Shouldn’t be a hard choice, right? Oh, I’m sure the fans would love to see more passion from the both of you—it seems you two together are the only thing even keeping you on the radar.”

Fight Hop again?

* * *

Hop glances at his phone, holding the Pikachu in his lap. Today was a good day—she was less lethargic than before, but her welts were getting worse. Berries and rest were treating her symptoms, but not her disease. In the back of his mind, Hop knows if they don’t come up with anything soon, she’s not going to make it.

With no response from Ghost about the press conference, he shoves down any apprehension he has. Maybe something is wrong. Maybe Leon would know.

After a few rings, the phone picks up. “Lee? Hello?”

“Hop! Ah! Figured to give your older brother a call, huh? Geez, it seems like its been ages since we’ve talked! How’s your trip?”

Hop smiles. Cheery as usual. “Yeah, yeah. It’s fine! I came to Hoenn to visit the preserves and meet one of Ghost’s friends. You remember Brendan, yeah?” He looks over at him, writing something on a sheet of paper after looking at the microscope. Brendan is unfazed by his name being said, and continues working anyways, alongside Birch. Birch flipped a couple of pages in a worn book, jotting down notes as well.

“Ah, the Champion from Hoenn, yeah? I think I can remember a couple of exhibition matches with him. Strong guy for sure. How’s he doing?”

“Fine,” Hop murmurs. “Staying busy as usual… but uh, I wanted to call to ask you something, Lee.”

The line falters a bit, and Leon can be heard taking a breath. “Yeah? What’s up?”

Hop steels himself. “Um, have you heard from Ghost lately? I haven’t been able to get in touch with her since the press conference… and… I just really wanted to talk to her about it…” he trails. “I’m super confused, and I just wanted to check in.”

Leon huffs. “Mmh, we had brunch earlier with Raihan, but she cut her hand on some glass and Raihan had to take her to the hospital—”

“Is she okay?”

“Let me finish—She had to get some stitches; I think. She’s fine otherwise though… um, but about the conference, I was as shocked as you.”

Hop exhales nervously. “Yeah, I’d figured.” He pets the pikachu softly, rubbing her cheeks. Her beady black eyes relaxed, and she huffs softly. “I just felt like something was up… uh. I don’t know what to do about her, Lee,” he murmurs, heart breaking as he talks. Brendan swore to him that something was up, but Hop couldn’t see it. Really, all he wanted was some validation from his brother that everything is going to be okay. “I miss her.” His voice breaks a little, “I miss her so much. My whole… my heart just hurts.”

Leon can’t find the words. There’s nothing to say. Half of this was his fault—if he could’ve gotten Ghost to do what she was supposed to, Hop wouldn’t feel this way. “Little brother,” he begins, “I know you’ve been hearing and seeing a lot of different things—but, don’t worry, okay? Ghost is just putting her priorities elsewhere, it doesn’t mean she doesn’t love you, Hopscotch.” Leon calculates what he should say and what he shouldn’t.

Hop smirks. Lee always knew what to say.

“But I do have to tell you something else, Hop.”

“Yeah?”

“You should think about watching out for yourself. I can’t say much else than that, but you should just… stay safe. Be careful of who you trust and who you talk to for a bit.”

“Lee? What’s going on? You’ve never been this cryptic. Just tell me what’s going on?”

“Watch the news, huh? And then just promise me you’ll do your best, yeah?”

Eyebrows furrowed in confusion; Hop realizes he’s stopped petting pikachu. “Okay…? But Lee, are you okay?”

Leon smiles sadly, “Mhmm. You don’t have to worry about me, little brother.”

“Love you, Lee.”

“Love you too, Hopscotch.”

Hanging up the phone, Hop stares at the screen, processing. “Birch? Can we… uh, can we watch the news real quick?”

Birch turns over his shoulder, nodding, but slowly. “Who was that? On the phone?”

Hop swallows. “My brother.”

The TV flicks on, and the headline is clear.

“CHAMPION GHOST CALLS FOR ALL OR NOTHING EXHIBITION MATCHES.” The reporter flicks through a pamphlet on screen hurriedly, “First spots available to challengers in the last challenge as well as Ghost’s personal rivals. We have this from the champ herself, take a look.” The screen changes to a monotone background, with Ghost stepping into the shot—dressed to the nines, looking nothing like she normally does. Hop gasps—he’d never seen her wear makeup, or wear a shirt with such an…er, exposed neckline. He notices she also looks thinner—her collarbones are apparent.

“As your new champion, I am sending out an invitation to all my rivals and challengers from the past season to challenge me again. It seems as if there are some… doubts about my strength and ability to uphold the champion title among some of you.” Her gaze sweeps across the room of reporters, knuckles white on the edges of the podium. “Anyone may challenge me, but I will only accept four of you. These battles are all or nothing—you beat me and my team, and the title is yours. You challenge me and lose… you will give a public recognition of my victory and attest to the strength you saw.”

Brendan curses under his breath, “Arceus…”

Hop can’t find words, he’s just stuck looking at the screen. All or nothing? Was she that confident? The battles between the two of them had always been so close—someone could come from anywhere and knock her down… She’d only been champion for a month!

“Are you going, Hop?” Brendan breathes, lowering his glasses. “I think she did that for you.”

Slowly, Hop nods. “I…I think I’ll go.” But he couldn’t stop staring at the fire in her eyes that consumed the entire screen.

“Hop, if you’re watching… I’ll see you on the pitch.”

Calling him out again when she knew how much it killed him last time…? If he was apprehensive before—he’s not now. He’s pissed.


	7. Reunion.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hop is fed up with being in the background. He gives a call to Ghost, accepting the all-or-nothing match. 
> 
> Pulled between chasing her dream and protecting Hop, Ghost talks with Leon. He relays a message from the waitress at the cafe--it's a warning. Revolution is in the air, and Ghost is the martyr. 
> 
> In Hoenn, Hop and Brendan struggle to find a cure. Pikachu grows sicker and sicker...

Skip: Hey, call when you get a sec? I’m so confused rn

Skip: Ghost, what the actual fuck right now

_Skip tried to call you._

Skip: um, are you not answering on purpose?

_Skip tried to call you._

_Skip tried to call you._

Skip: I called Lee, but he’s being super weird. Look, I don’t even care about the conference anymore. Whatever, I guess we can talk about that another time… but what the fuck? Ghost you’ve been champ for like a month, you barely beat Leon! You’re going to lose the thing you worked so damn hard for… there’s no way you’re that confident—I know you!

_Skip tried to call you._

Skip: Fucking fine. Don’t answer. What the hell with calling me out like that on national television? Is this about me leaving?

_Skip tried to call you._

Skip: Fuck this. I’m coming for your ass. You hear me? I have no idea what the hell is going on, but I’m done. I hope you’re as strong as you think you are. I’ll see you on the pitch.

My hands shake, scrolling through all the messages. He’s pissed. Like, super pissed. I’ve only seen him mad a couple of times, but never with me. Never. I can’t call him back like this, there’s no way I could have anything to say. A text is all I can manage. I type it out what seems a million different ways, but all I can come up with is;

Me: Bring Brendan. I’m sorry.

I don’t expect him to read it, or really even see it. Then the phone buzzes in my hand, and it’s him, calling. I swallow my apprehension and shakingly put the phone to my ear.

“You cheeky cunt. I can’t believe you. You can have Brendan. Cause I’m done with you. After the match, I swear to Arceus I don’t want to see you again.”

I stiffen. “Hop?”

“Put the call on video. Right now. This isn’t a game anymore, show me your face.” His voice grates what little of my nerves were left. “I want to see how much this hurts you.”

Something inside me breaks. Something big. I should scream. I should cry and tell him everything, but I can’t. I can’t tell him. I put the phone in front of me, switching on the camera. The circle in the screen freezes a moment before I see him, his teeth gritted and tears streaming down his face.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“What?” I choke. Seeing his face makes the break deeper. His golden eyes are devoid of all warmth, and it chills me to my core. Never have I thought of them as being grey, but they are. There’s nothing in them.

“It doesn’t bother you one damn bit, does it, Ghost?” He chokes back his words. “It’s so funny. I thought you actually loved me, you know? Like for a moment—I was happy. I didn’t have the title, but I had you. And that’s all I think I ever really wanted… but that look on your face, this doesn’t bother you at all. It doesn’t bother you one bit to see me. Bother you to know that you have ripped my heart from my chest, Ghost. You’re killing me.”

“Don’t.” I growl. “Hop, I swear to Arceus, don’t.”

“But I was an idiot to think you meant it when you said you loved me. Obviously, all you’ve ever cared about was the battling. Well, you got what you wanted. Good for you.” His voice is short, laced with ice. “But I’m taking it away. I will see you on that pitch and take the title. I want to be the one to take the thing you love most so maybe you’ll even begin to feel the way I do.”

“What do you want me to say?!” I yell. But he’s already hung up. And just like that, I’ve done the thing I’m most scared of. I’ve lost him.

I pace harder, feeling like a caged animal. Had these walls always been so close? A million thoughts crowd my head, and my temples begin to throb. What have I done? In trying to keep him safe, I’ve pushed him away. Like the glass in the café, my heart shatters into a million little pieces, each one tearing through me.

Red light fills the room as Sabre breaks free from his ball, growling. He sits back on his haunches, staring at me.

“What do you want, mangy cur?!” I shout at him, tears breaking loose. “Get back in your ball.” I don’t want anyone to see me like this, least of all my Pokémon.

He whimpers as he approaches me, lying low to the ground in an act of submission. It’s obvious he understands my anger, but he’s not willing to receive it. He growls again, yellow eyes daring me to do something about his misbehavior. He knows I won’t. “Fine. Do what you want.” I say shortly, going to sit on the corner of my bed, staring at the clock in front of me. It’s not even five yet, and all of this has happened…

Instead, I lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to come up with complete sentences—but my heart throbs sadly instead. I should be training… I should be doing anything else but this… Sabre hops onto the bed and lies beside me, chin resting on top of my chest. He huffs, nuzzling in as far as possible. He could probably feel the hurt radiating from me. He looks down at me a moment before pawing my side, trying to catch my gaze back at him. I relent and blink at him. He whimpers gently, and closes his eyes as if to say, ‘You’ll be okay.’

But I won’t. I know that.

A loud banging comes from the front of the room, the door nearly rattling with it. I jump. “Who is it?” I call, still not moving.

“Ghost, listen.”

Leon.

“No.”

A frustrated huff is heard, but he knocks again. “Let me in.”

Again, “No.”

“Ghost, I have to see you. I just heard what happened, and I—”

“Did you eavesdrop?”

“What?”

“Did. You. Eavesdrop, Leon?”

“…no…well. Maybe? You were sort of screaming. You know these walls aren’t entirely soundproof.”

I groan. “It’s open, but I really don’t want to talk to you.”

Slowly, the door opens, and Leon peeks inside, looking over at me. “Mmh, damn… hey.” His voice is already softer than before.

“What.” Sabre growls apprehensively, weight of his body increasing on my chest as he protectively covers me.

Leon sits on the bed beside me, unfazed by Sabre. Slowly, the canine relents, seeing Leon meant no obvious harm. Leon looks down at me, a grimace, “You can’t be like this.”

I can’t? What the fuck? “Don’t tell me how to be. Your brother just called to chew me out over something he doesn't understand. He told me he doesn’t care to even see me again, Lee. What the hell? Can’t you talk some sense into him?”

He ignores the statement. “You have to get up and roll with the punches. You have to beat him, you know? You’ve also got three other challengers to fight. So far your options are Bede, Marnie, or Victor. Milo would like to take a stab at it, but…”

“But what?”

“Brendan challenged you, too.” He inhales, as if it stings him, too.

I sit up. “Brendan? Why would he…?” Is it for show…?

Leon shrugs. “Gives him a reason to come up with Hop, I guess.”

Looking at him in the dying light of the day kills me. _He looks so much like Hop…_ His hair nearly flares violet in the sunset, and the way it hits his bared shoulders… I lean into him, putting my head on his chest, clinging on to what little normalcy I can find in him. He freezes a moment before wrapping his arms around me, the familiar neatly trimmed chin on my head. I’m sure me finally breaking down isn’t something he’s used to seeing… but I desperately wish I could just melt into him…

“Ah, Ghost. This is nothing, you know that? Hop will come around. He just gets over-zealous sometimes… he’s pretty prone to saying things he doesn’t mean, and you know that.” I don’t know that, but if Leon says it...

“Oh, also!” He stops, grabbing something from his pocket. “I know she should’ve sent it via post, but Raihan got this from that waitress in the café. She meant to send it, but ran into him and asked him to give it to you.” His gaze is soft as he looks down at me in his arms, huffing. I look away. I don’t need his sympathy. I just need to be held for once. “It…uh, turns out you mean a lot to more people than I thought. I’m sorry, Ghost.”

“Sorry for pushing me, huh? I’ll take it,” I huff, tears threatening to appear. I take the envelope, holding it gingerly. The paper is yellowed, and nearly brittle at the edges. It’d obviously been used more than once, the top is secured with tape. Opening it, the letter is handwritten, and seems to be from a torn journal page.

_Taibhse—_

_You are family. There have been many champions in the lifetime of Galar, but you are the only one who speaks for us. Seeing you uncomfortable in the café made me realize that you aren’t like them, but like us. You have the heart of Hoenn in you—my home and my land—but you have the fighting spirit of Southern Galar._

_But, be careful. The tension is growing, but I think you know that. Galar has overstepped its boundaries—taking what they want from the Lower Regions, and estranging it’s people farther. I am a product of that—I know you saw the marking on my neck. People in the Lower Regions are calling for you, Ghost—they want to see this exploitation of their lands, their people, their Pokémon end. We can see the light through you._

_Go n-éirí an bóthar leat._

Leon can’t help but stare in confusion. The letter is written in plain Galarian Gaelic—only someone who understood the language could hope at deciphering it.

“Is their handwriting just particularly bad, or…?” He takes the letter, squinting.

“It’s uh… It’s Gaelic. She had a really thick accent, so I guess it’s probably her first language…”

“Well, what’s it say?”

Should I lie? Say it’s just another fan-letter and not a warning? I decide to make a deal. “I’ll tell you, if you tell me something.” _I need to know about the letters…_

He shrugs, unaware. “Fine. Anything for you.”

“Tell me where the letters from the Lower Regions are, Leon. Are they being picked through? The only ones I’ve got have been from really young children, but I get them all ages from Sinnoh, Alola, Unova, Kalos, and here…”

He swallows. “Mmh...” His eyes look away from me, and I wonder if he’s thinking up a lie.

“Tell me the truth, Lee,” I beg. “You’ve been so cryptic about everything, and I’m honestly…” I trail, biting my lip. “I’m losing trust in you. From beating the shit out of Sabre for a joke, to telling me to stay away from Hop and then it was okay, to bringing Raihan to the café when I wanted it to be just me and you… to leaving whenever I told you both about Hoenn… what is going on? I just need you to be honest about this one thing… I haven’t felt like you’ve told me the truth about anything here, and… and I’m just so _lost, Leon._ ”

He chuckles nervously, running a hand through his hair. “Aw, fuck, Ghost. You’re better at reading me than I thought you were, huh? Maybe hanging out with Hop taught you a thing or two.” His chin goes to rest on my head again as I lean into his chest once more. “I wouldn’t doubt it, about the letters,” he frowns, thinking, “but why—” he squeezes me a little tighter, as if realizing why I asked, “Ghost…what does the note say?”

I know exactly why. Because for me to have seen them, for me to have heard from those regions… I might have picked up on the tension. Picked up on the brewing uneasiness between Galar and the Lower Regions. I would have reacted. I’m going to react.

I blink at him, taking his face in my shaking hands, studying him. His eyes dart away from mine, and the uneasiness from the close contact shines between the gold flecks. The slightest look of embarrassment crosses his gaze, but I pull him closer still. If there’s something I know about the brothers—it’s that physical contact from me terrifies them. Because I don’t ever do it. Because this is an exception. This, he’ll remember.

His arms fold almost naturally over my shoulders, and I notice he’s shaking a little, too. With my lips almost brushing his ear, “It’s a rebellion, Lee.” I whisper. “The disease is just the start—and I’m their martyr.”

He squeezes me tighter, shivering.

I can almost hear his heart thud in his chest as I breathe, “The letter is a warning to the both of us.”

* * *

“We’re telling them. Everyone at the match… We’re telling the world,” Hop grunts, sitting in the grass with Pikachu. The day is pleasant—not cold like it had been, but more spring-like. Even the sickeningly sweet smell of blooms begins to waft through the forest. Sunlight dapples through the bare branches of trees and floods the clearing with a small bit of warmth.

Brendan sits beside him, lab coat collar upturned, covering his neck and part of his face. His hands rest in his lap, but he picks at his fingers nervously. Hop can’t see it, but tears roll down Brendan’s face regardless. He fingers a vial in his pocket and wonders if it’s even worth it. Would it be a waste? How many more would be like this? What if he’d found something sooner? Would she be like this? “Are you prepared for the consequences that may bring?”

“I don’t have anything left to lose, man.” Hop sighs, forcing a smile at Pikachu, brushing her fur away from her face. “You don’t either, do you, hmm?” She isn’t going to make it through this, that’s for certain.

The past few days had been fine, but now, Pikachu is tired. Underneath, what the two young researchers couldn’t see, was her organs failing: tiring themselves out from fighting back against the infection. She fought with all she had, but it still isn’t enough. Hop continues to pet her, soothing her quietly. She relishes the feel of his cool hand on her fur, helping to ease the tension in her muscles from lying still so long. Though she’d only known him for a month, Hop is the sort of trainer she would’ve loved to fight beside. She knows he cares for her, and that’s half the reason she’s fighting so hard… but now, she’s just tired. Her stomach hurts, her head hurts, everything just… hurts. She just wants to lay right here in the soft grass, curled up with the trainer who’d shown her kindness. Trainers weren’t so bad, after all. She closes her eyes, placing a paw on his thigh, sighing.

“There’s a good girl,” Hop sniffs, moving to lie in the grass beside her, holding her in his arms. “You’re the hardest fighter I’ve ever seen, you know that? I think you even put Dubwool to shame.” The lump in his throat grows bigger and bigger. “But I’m going to fight for you, okay? We’re going to keep this from happening to anyone else, you hear me? I’m doing this for you, Pikachu.” Hop glances at Brendan who had since stood up, bringing a single oran blossom, the petals fresh and pink. Gently, Hop takes it, setting it between her little paws that now seem so heavy…

Pikachu opens her eyes just enough to see the boy smiling at her, golden eyes full of love, the glaze of freshly shed tears in them. His face is right beside hers, their noses nearly touching. His arm circles her frail body, and she feels safe.

“I love you, Pikachu. I’m right here.” He whispers. She isn’t sure what he means, but she knows its kind. It comforts her. But, among the love in his eyes, there’s also pain—she blinks weakly and licks his nose, hoping that he could be comforted—he shouldn’t have to hurt, too.

Hop nods at Brendan, and with a small pinch of a needle, Pikachu relaxes, giving into the deep sleep that she craved so desperately. The last thing she can remember before she goes is the pressure of a kiss on her forehead.

“Thank you, Pikachu.”

The pair wait in silence for what seems like decades before they know for certain that she’s gone. With a final, warm huff against Hop’s cheek, she relaxes, and doesn’t inhale again. There’s nothing left in the clearing except the wind whisking against branches, and the small, still yellow figure with an oran blossom in her paws.

Slowly, the two find a place for her. Underneath a sprawling berry bush they begin to dig, not a word worth sharing. After the last patch of dirt is replaced, Hop sets a small, flat white stone at the head of the mound, the hem of his shirt still in his teeth with a multitude of flowers in the makeshift pocket.

When the sun finally starts to go down, they leave, the silence still daunting. Brendan stops Hop at the door to the lab and pulls him into a long hug, sighing. Hop doesn’t cry, but he doesn’t smile anymore either.

“We’re leaving tomorrow, first thing,” he breathes. “We can crash at my house. There’s no one there really except my mum and grandparents.”

Brendan nods, closing his thoughts on Pikachu and the door behind him—they have bigger things to plan, now.  
  


* * *

Oleana taps her fingers on the desk, looking me up and down. Obviously this outfit isn’t what she had in mind.

Leon had always worn his uniform with the huge red cape and dumb snapback, and it made him something of spectacle. I’m not. I felt so dumb in that white uniform, being the center of attention across the bright green pitch… I had to change it somehow. Looking down at myself, shrugging to her. “This is the one.”

The altered uniform is a gift from Leon and Raihan.

_“So, first exhibition, huh? You're going to need a different uniform. A champion’s uniform, Right, Lee?” Raihan smirks._

_“Please for the love of Arceus, no overly dramatic capes.”_

_“Fine. No extra capes. We'll figure something out.”_

What the three of us figured out was worth it.

The uniform is mostly the same, except black and long sleeved. Instead of the overly cropped shorts, we opted for sleek jogger pants with the number on the thigh in white. My hair, though usually kept back by my beret, was now in a low, messy bun, curls framing my face. We debated some trademark—something that shows who I am. We picked through my things for hours before we came to my old photobook where I was holding a huge piece of cloth with a tartan pattern. Long before my relatives left for Hoenn or the north end of Galar, they all lived even more south than Postwick, and formed a clan with several other families. Each family had their own set of colors, their own tartan to claim. The one around my body was mine. Even after the clans were dispersed by the monarchy, the tartan made it down the bloodline somehow.

_“That’s it. You’ve got to use that! Have your mom send it.” Leon breathes._

Here I stand, but without the tartan. That would come at the match—now I’m terrified they’d find a way to take it, for all it stood for. Strength. Solidarity. Family. Love of kin and country before anything else, especially kings. Everything that’s a slap in the face to Galar of today.

Oleana frowns. “Well, if we let Leon wear a cape and a snapback, I assume we could let you wear that black uniform…” she trails, still looking at me. “It’s not very… revealing, you know? Leaving everything up to the imagination, hm?” she teases.

“I know. I just felt uncomfortable with the… uh, really short shorts. I don’t do well with that.”

“Ah, well. This will give them something to talk about as well. Let’s go pick up your boys, shall we?” Brendan and Hop.

I look at my watch. They should be almost here if the Corviknight was on time. I nod. “Sure.”

“Keep your head up, and eyes straight,” she warns. “Won’t want to give the cameras a bad shot.” Something in her voice seems off…

The walk to the rooftop is agonizing. With each moment of the elevator ride, my heart aches a little more. It’d been a month since I’d seen Hop, and we’d been on radio silence for a week…

Soon, the doors to the roof open, and Oleana and I step out, into the blazing sun. The light is the harshest, even though the wind is cool. I cover my eyes, and blink away the sun only to find the rooftop empty, except for a handful of Oleana’s bodyguards. There always seemed to be some of them everywhere…but where’s the media? Were they downstairs for the shot after Hop and Brendan arrived? It made sense—the top of the tower is relatively small for a landing site anyways.

Frowning, I look at my watch again. A few more minutes. What am I supposed to say? The wait is agonizing. I try to think of something.

“There,” Oleana points, one hand covering her face. It’s the taxi. We both take a step back, blinking as the cab lands with a dull thud, and the bodyguards open the door. I swallow.

My heart thuds in my ears, and I cover my eyes, blinking away the light. Before I know it, Brendan’s thick arms are around my shoulders, and my face is buried in his neck. “Ghost!”

I hug him back before he picks me up grunting, “Did you get taller?”

All the tension in me fades. This feels like every summer I’ve ever had with him. When he sets me back down, he whispers, “We need to talk when we can. I’ve got to tell you about Hoenn, we have a plan.”

I laugh and play it off, “I think I grew an inch or two! Or, could be all this black.”

He nods, smiling. “Ah, it is really so good to see you again. I can’t wait for our battle. It’s been ages, hasn’t it?” He pats me, and soon, he’s off talking to Oleana, being courteous as always.

Still in the cab, sits Hop. A bodyguard asks to assist him, but he refuses snippily, beginning to move. His eyes meet mine, and I steel myself. What am I supposed to say?

He walks to me, bag over his shoulder, and offers me a hand. “Ghost,”

I stare at it. And then I stare at him. “Hop?” This isn’t him. This scrawny, tired looking boy isn’t Hop. There’s bags around his eyes, and all of the golden luster in them is gone. I swallow my anxiety and hug him instead, hoping to bring my Hop back. His body doesn’t soften at all—I may as well have hugged a wall.

“Nice outfit. Matches your heart, I guess?” He growls.

I freeze.

His eyes are still devoid of color. “Nothing has changed between us. And now, I can see how easy it was for you to sell yourself to Galar—you’re wearing my brother’s shirt style. Had to take something of his, huh?” His voice is cold. The words a little too short, too sharp.

“I guess.” I mutter, releasing him from the hug. “Hop, what’s wrong? You don’t understand… I can explain everything, but it’s going to take some time over dinner, and you just have to trust me.” Why is he making this so hard? “Hop, what’s going on in Hoenn? Brendan stopped talking to me right after you did, I don’t know what I did wrong… Hop, please.” I find tears beginning to well in my eyes, me begging him over and over again to say something.

Instead, he looks lazily down at my hand, still wrapped in white bandages, much like a fighter’s fist. He takes it in his hand shakily, and he looks down at my palm, stitches still intact. He holds it up in both of his hands, and the slightest look of concern flits across his brow. His touch is gentle, even though his demeanor is not. It’s not much, but it’s something. Something that belongs to my Hop. A spark of hope lights in my chest. Maybe this is an act. Maybe he only meant to pretend to be cold.

“We’ll have to talk about it. In the meantime, there’s more than the disease there... Maybe that should be dinner plans firs—”

A scream meets my ears as I whip around to see Oleana pinned underneath Brendan, and bodyguards running her way. As I run closer, the sun glints off a blade she’s got pressed to his neck.

A brute force wrenches me away from Hop from behind, thick arms pinning mine to my body. I wrestle, screaming, watching as a second guard knocks Hop in the jaw with a heavy fist. His body thuds to the ground with a sickening crunch, and he scrambles on his hands to jump back up again, hands pressed to his jaw. The hit, so hard on his thinner frame made his steps far less coordinated than before. A bit of blood runs down his lip. “Bloody hell!”

“What the hell is this?” I shout, watching out of the corner of my eye as Brendan wrestles himself free from a larger guard who pinned him against the wall. Now I know why there isn’t any media…

Again, Oleana is behind him, shiv in her fist and a cut on her cheek. “This is for sticking your nose where it has never belonged! Rose is working so hard to make the world a better place, and the three of you are constantly fucking it up!” She lunges in at Brendan again, slashing his coat. Brendan screams at the cut, still struggling.

Before I know it, the guard is dragging me, pulling me back to the entrance, back into the tower. I struggle more and land a kick to my attacker’s shin, taking the opportunity at his pain to wrench myself free, screaming. “You promised! Rose promised me! I played your game, let them go!”

Hop, fighting a rather tough looking female guard lands a hit, but the small win is over soon as he’s held back by the guard I pushed off of me. A blow like a ton of bricks nails Hop in his gut, and he coughs, bending over, wheezing. “Goddammit!” He hits his knees, curling around himself.

Still free to move around, Oleana smirks, laughing. “He promised you, huh?” Her voice is ice, just like Hop’s had been, only this time, it doesn’t bother me. I’m used to the ice from her. “Do you think we’re that naïve? Letting all three of you be together just before your match? Please. Besides,” she shrugs apathetically, “These two are criminals and will be tried as such. Getting them here is half the fun.” She takes a step closer, closing the distance between her knife and me.

I don’t step back. “Criminals?” I squint, and Brendan blinks, the smudge of blood across his nose beginning to drip. He’s stopped struggling, knowing he’s caught. Behind me, Hop still gags, catching his breath. I inhale at the sickly noise.

“Breaching into Galar’s private government files is a _serious_ offence. Why, we could even say we have a couple of mad scientists on our hands, experimenting with the powers of Dynamaxing right in their backyard…”

Brendan’s eyes go wide. I wilt. It was always a gamble. And I lost. _Framed._

“Oh. You didn’t think we’d do something about it? A little promise to keep them safe was enough for you? Heheh!” She laughs almost hysterically. “Who did you think you were fooling, child?” She takes another step toward me, swiping in at my side. I struggle away, feeling the blow connect with my uniform. “As soon as Leon takes back the title, I’ll actually get to put my blade in you, and no one will even know you’re gone.” She sneers.

The phrase echoes in my ears, _“As soon as Leon takes back the title…” Lee?_

“Lee would never fight for you,” a voice gruffs from behind me. Hop is still doubled over, coughing. “He won’t do it. Not my brother.”

Oleana spits in his direction. “There’s only one thing your brother loves most in this world, and tough luck kiddo, but it _isn’t you._ He’s been behind us this whole time. You seriously think he’d be satisfied with being anything but the Champion? Ahahah! Imagining him coming back to a normal life in that tiny town of yours is a riot. I can see it now! Farmer Leon!” She stands in front of him now, kneeling down to take his chin in her palm, forcing him to look at her, “Your hero doesn’t look so heroic now, does he? Leon has always been cooperative. He let us use his Charizard for the experiments! If that’s not commitment, I don’t know what is.”

Hop is broken. Oleana smirks, wiping the blood from his lip with her thumb, “There, there. No need to bleed all over the place now… got to keep you looking spiffy for the tournament.”

I’m frozen, watching all of this. Leon lied. Every word he ever said to me was a lie. Everything makes sense. He asked me to trust him. The hazing was a chance to see how far I’d go… too see what he needed to do to beat me. The press conference was a chance to see if I’d take his advice over Rose’s. The café? That was to see how easily I’d spill information, even to Raihan. The moment we shared in the bedroom about the letter… was that fake too? My head spins, too much information at once.

Brendan, beginning to struggle again, is pissed. “This is genocide! You don’t know how far this thing is going to go! You’ve already sickened most of the Pokemon in the wild, people’s pokemon are next! Are you that careless to an entire region? Those are people too!”

Oleana makes a hand gesture, and a guard nails Brendan in the side, knocking the breath from him. A sickly heave comes, and I scream, “Stop! Stop this now! What is it that you want me to do, huh?!” I run to stand between Hop and Brendan, attempting to spread my arms wide enough to shield them from her. I don’t move, and I realize blood is dripping off the ends of my fingers—my cut had come open again.

Her eyes become slits. “Fight tomorrow as if their lives depend on it.”

I stand taller, trying to steady my breathing. “I don’t believe it. Give me something to believe this time! Your word isn’t good enough.”

“Fight tomorrow as if _your_ life depends on it. How’s that?” She snarls. Her eyes lock on mine, and I don’t dare look away.

“I swear—” Cut off, I hit the ground hard, temple slamming against the concrete. Hop and Brendan both shout something inaudible. Black fades in against my vision, and all I catch sight of is a rather shiny patent leather shoe, just beside my nose.

“You know better than all of this, Ghost.”


	8. Choice.

Some things are better left alone. Nature, the will of Pokémon, and me. Pacing back and forth in this arena, I shout commands at each of my partners, all fighting hard against one another. Even Neon made headway against the young Persian, Raga. “Speed, not force!” I remind her. Sabre growls behind me at a rather large Galarian Ponyta, nipping at his heels. The unicorn gives a hard swipe with his back legs that might have otherwise nailed Sabre, but whiffs safely in front of his nose. Sabre blinks, realizing his misstep and jumps back in, huffing.

I hold a stance against my Houndoom, and have her come towards me, full force. She rams into my thigh, horns slapping against my hip. Staggering, I cheer her on, wincing. “You’re getting stronger, Tine!” She dips her head, grunting. Her nervousness about tomorrow is clear. Lady, a small, lithe Leafeon yips supportively, ready to take her partner back. Tine jumps back into the battle.

“Everyone, switch!” Getting different combinations helped everyone try different moves with different sized challengers. Sabre runs to me, panting. It’s obvious he’s tiring out, I can see it in his eyes, and suddenly, I notice the grey around his muzzle. _When did all that start to show…?_ Before I know it, he’s charging at me, trying his best to show off. I swipe to the side, and he whizzes by, just before slipping, paws scratching on the plastic grass of the pitch. He slips and crashes hard into the ground, bits of rubber flying up around him. I blink. He… missed? Sabre usually never misses. “Sabre?” I call.

He doesn’t move.

Laying on the pitch, he groans gutturally as I run to lie next to him, petting his ruff. “Hey! Sabre…? You okay?” He snarls painfully, the noise fading into a whimper. “Sab, what’s wrong?” I pet him gently, scratching behind his ear. His chest is still heaving. I follow my hand down his neck, and then I feel it. I freeze, inhaling sharply.

It’s a large lump, the same as Charizard’s.

Sabre whines softly again at the touch, and I feel tears well in my eyes. “Mmh, Sab. Take it easy, okay? We’re going to take you to see someone. That looks pretty painful… why didn’t you say something?” I soothe. By this time, all my team had stopped sparring and sat worriedly around Sabre. Neon paces back and forth, electricity crackling around her.

“He’s okay. He’s just… a little under the weather. Everyone go over there a bit, yeah?” I didn’t want this to spread, if it could. Hesitantly, the team relents and groups around themselves, watching from a distance. Raga practically drags Neon by her neck ruff, but she goes, too.

“Just, take a rest for right now, okay? We’ll… we’ll figure it out before tomorrow.” Sabre growls, watching me take out his ball. He struggles away, _Don’t put me in there. I won’t go._

I flash the light, and he’s sucked out of existence, but only for a moment. He forces himself out again. I swallow. “Sabre, it’s for your own good. You won’t get worse if you’re in your ball…”

I try again, with the same result.

He turns painfully to me, whimpering, I find myself doing the same. “You stubborn, old, mangy cur, you’ve never listened to a word I’ve said, huh?” I murmur sadly, petting the sides of his face. His eyes close, and I press my forehead to his.

Not only do I have to fight for my dream against my friends, I can’t even fight for it with my whole team.

I pace back and forth in my room, it’s a jail cell. The doors are locked, and probably guarded. _Funny_ , I think. _To be trapped in luxury_. The fancy part of the room seemed to laugh at me, ‘You don’t belong here. You never have and you never will.’ I stomp at the floors and curse them. “You don’t know me.” Nothing here understood me. Why was this my dream again? This is all a horrible nightmare.

Sabre and all my team were taken by a guard before I was escorted out of the practice pitch. I don’t know where to, but I begged for help for Sabre. To give him up, it’s all I can think of to help him now. With me, he’d suffer in his ball, and I have no idea how to help him. I try to take my thoughts from it. There’s nothing else that I have. I can’t help him, hell, I can’t even help myself.

* * *

After the fight on the rooftop, I woke up here, upper arm bandaged along with my palm. My wrists are sore, as if I was dragged here by them. I wring them softly, still pacing. The back of my head is also throbbing with a dull ache—the last thing I remember before blacking out was a sharp swipe to my skull. Of the things I do remember, I do so with a wince at Hop’s busted lip and Brendan’s nose dripping crimson onto his emerald dress shirt. Where are they now? I pace harder, pressing my face against the window. The cool glass does little to soothe me, but it was better than sweating. With no way safely down, jumping isn’t an option.

A soft knock comes from the door, and I exhale. “Mh?”

“Listen, uh. I know you’re in there, and I know you don’t wanna talk to me probably, but I just wanted to let you know that if you need anything, I’m here.” Raihan.

“Rai?” I call numbly. “You can come in, if you want.” Among all of the bad, at least there's the warmth of Raihan. I remind myself to let him tell me what's going on—I don’t want to give anything up, cause that’s gone so well before.

He opens the door, closing it behind him again with a soft snick. I blink, still not looking away from the window. “What'd you come by for…?” I ask gently. “I've missed you,” I echo. “My hand is better… or well, was.”

He sits on my bed with a shuffle, his hands resting on his long legs. “Ah… well, that’s, hm. Good to hear… I wanted to wish you luck.” He looks around at my things, noticing the smashed glass lamp in pieces at the foot of the bed. “Uh… yikes… did you do that?” His voice wavers.

“Mhm. I’m sort of losing it a little,” I say calmly. “How's Lee?”

His breath hitches. “Uh, he's okay… I just, hm. He's not okay either. He's worried sick about you.”

I’m the one who freezes, turning stiffly to him. “Him? Worried about me? Why isn't he the one here then?”

“He can’t.”

“Why?”

“…he’s in a bunch of meetings with the press. He’s putting out fires.”

“Fires?”

“Fires outside of Galar.”

Nothing else had to be said. The Lower Regions. The letter. The disease. It’s all coming to a head now, and I’m no longer a part of it. I’m a distraction. But I’m also the cause. “Oh.”

“Are you ready for tomorrow?” A harmless question, but I didn’t want to talk about it.

“I’m ready to see Hop and Brendan again,” I breathe with a weak smile. “Oleana welcomed them both yesterday in… quite a flurry. Have you heard from them?” I shove the anxiety down.

“No,” he murmurs, picking up a piece of the glass in his dark fingers. “But lets go for a walk, yeah? It may help you feel a little better,” his voice lingers, and I blink at him as if to say, ‘Is that possible?’

He stands, and walks over to me, offering me a hand. “C’mon. I hear there’s a shop downtown that’s got all sorts of country-type stuff in it. Might make you think of home,” he smiles, and it’s genuine. I smile back. The hand is a question, an opportunity. Unlike Leon, he doesn’t just grab me and pull me in the direction he wants, Raihan waits. He asks, but ultimately, the decision is mine.

I nod, and take his hand. “Thanks, Rai.”

We pad downtown, and his arm rests protectively around my shoulders. “I don’t even know how old you are, Ghost,” he breathes. “I don’t know anything about you other than how you were when we were kids. Do you remember when Leon and I would baby sit you and Hop? Do you remember how the both of you would ride on our shoulders? How old did you think we were?”

I laugh. Something real. “Huh. I mean, I’m 22 now. Then, we were what, 7? 8? You both were only like, 13! I thought you were so grown up, like 18. But I guess we really were a lot closer in age than we thought.”

I look over to a couple of billboards, and notice an ad for the Championships for last fall with Leon in it. Nice. Of course. “When Leon fought me on the practice pitch, why did you guys really do that? Leon almost killed Sabre. He knew he’s getting old… but he almost killed him anyways… was it really just for a bet?” I blink.

“Well, it started as a bet. But then I think Leon got carried away. Sort of like how you and Hop got caught up together—he loses himself in the passion of battle, too. I think he wanted to prove to you that you beating him was a one time thing. I mean, you’re the only person he’s EVER lost to, Ghost. Ever. That one battle. Do you know how devastating that was for him? And then to see all that negative attention come your way? He’s been a mess since all of this started. Rose is pulling him in every which direction, and none of them have made him feel any better. I think he was trying to prepare you for tomorrow, in a way.”

“Prepare me for what?”

“Other challengers, and him, too. When you go out on that pitch tomorrow, it will be blow after blow after blow, as much as they can get without drawing a whole lot of blood. You need to be ready for that.”

I nod, understanding. There was some truth in that. “Rai?”

“Mhm?” He stops, looking around for cameras or anything of the sort—but this place is a ghost town. Too old town for any one of importance to bother. He knew the tone in my voice.

“Whose side is he on?”

“Lee?”

“Yeah.”

“I can’t believe you’re asking this question. Isn’t it obvious enough?”

“Nope. Look me right in the eye and tell me, Raihan.”

He looks away a moment before sighing frustratedly, “He told you to trust him. Him. Only him, right? Is this trusting him? Really?” His crystal eyes are intense.

I take a step back. “Oleana told us he’s been working on their side of the disease project for years. That his Charizard was the test subject. That he'd always been compliant. Did he just not know?”

Raihan bites his lip. “Mmh. He supported it in the beginning. Growing and supporting only the best genetics in Pokemon? That's what had always been done, that’s the goal, right? But after Charizard got sick… that's when things started to change. Things with Rose got dicey. He pulled away. He stopped going to conferences to support it, but then, you beat him. He felt scared. He knew you'd be pulled into it. He knew you’d be Rose’s next victim. He knew you'd hate it. So to protect you…” Raihan shudders, “He dove back into it. He cares so much about you, Ghost. You and Hop both. I think a part of him still sees you both being 7. As kids. Like his siblings. You're lucky. He doesn't even love me like that, and we've been together for years… I'm actually sort of jealous.”

Silence grows between us, and I process. Why didn’t he tell me before? “Why did he challenge me, then? Why try to take back the title?” _Does he have an answer for everything?_

His fingers land on the door handle to the shop, and he pushes it in. “Does he have a choice?”

I blink. “Yes?”

Raihan chuckles. “You have as much choice as he does, yeah?” He stares at me, blinking again, searching my eyes. “You have as much choice as he does.”

A shiver runs down my spine. “I guess so.”

* * *

Raihan’s words echo in my head as I pace the locker room. “ _You have as much choice as he does.”_ Choice for what? Oleana’s words slice too, “ _Fight as if your life depends on it.”_ That doesn’t seem like much of a choice…

I finger the cuffs of my uniform, and look around the room, taking it all in. This time, I’m scared. I was nervous before, sure, but it wasn’t like this. Slowly, I pull my tartan around my shoulders, blinking. This is a choice. Did the people in the Lower Regions have a choice? Did Sabre have a choice?

A privilege. I get to make a choice. I pin my gym badge over the tartan, over my heart, securing the wrap in place. The silver oran branches in the pin push back against my fingers—like I’m pushing back. Is it even worth it to push? And then, I think of the brittle letter in my hands, the writing scribbled and authentic. The waitress’s words, “ _We can see the light through you. Go n-éirí an bóthar leat._ ” May the ground come up to meet you. May you light the way.

The tartan is for her. For Hoenn. For Galar. For all of us who have been pushed to the side. Made to feel less than. Made to be… issues. Pushing is worth it.

The doors to the pitch open, and the hiss of the crowd comes through. I steel myself, and void my face of any emotion. No fear. No joy. Only determination and focus. With a deep breath, I step into the bright lights of the pitch and blink. The crowd erupts—a loud, deafening sound. I hesitate to cover my ears from it. The wind on the pitch picks up, and I look across the field. Brendan stands, in his contest uniform, brown hair fixed, for once. He only smiles at me, approaching me on the pitch, but in his blue-grey eyes, I see it. The exhaustion. The fear. I blink. There’s makeup under his eyes, but up close, I can see how heavily it’s globbed on. I can see the hint of a bruise on his cheek, and a bit of bloodshot in the whites of his eyes.

He offers a hand, and I shake it. Nothing. Just an empty smile. His eyes follow to my tartan and the pin, and his throat seizes. He even seems to go a little paler than normal. His hand is shaking as I clasp it.

“Annnd with that, we have our first match of the All or Nothing tournament!” Rose’s voice booms over the loudspeaker, “Champion Ghost against her longstanding rival and Hoenn’s Champion, Champion Brendan!”

Again, the crowd erupts, and I swallow the bitter taste of nervousness from my mouth.

The battle goes as well as planned—without Sabre at the top of my team, I took a lot of damage. Soon enough, after hit after hit, Brendan nods to the last member of his team, sweat on his brow. _One fight down, three to go._

Brendan hugs me in the center of the pitch rather than shaking my hand. “You’ve grown, Ghost,” he mutters. “You can do this, yeah? Remember what moves are most important.” He buries his face in my bun, and I hug him back. “Remember who’s on your team and who isn’t,” he breathes, pulling away, the smile from before still there. He rubs his nose on his sleeve, and a streak of red appears in its place. “Agh, you hit hard, huh?”

I nod emptily. I’m not sure if I can do this. As he walks away, I feel the crowd chanting. They beg me to acknowledge them.

I won’t.

It’s not me they’re after, it’s this. The reaction was the same with Leon. It doesn’t matter who is standing here. I look up at the big screens and see my steely face looking back at myself. I’m stone. And I like it. I like it a lot. I like this coldness. It’s as much of a ‘fuck you’ as I can imagine. Where Leon soaked in the fame, I don’t acknowledge it.

I make it back into the locker room, and there’s no one there. Not even the guard that usually stands in front of the drink machine. I frown. Sinking into a chair, I rub my face on a lush white towel, breathing in the smell of bleach. _Who’s next?_

Time passes slowly enough. There’s a few hours for my team to recoup from fighting, and for us to find some food. Usually, Leon does meet and greets, but I refuse. I’ll sit right here and bide my time until the stadium is empty again. There were also cameras in the lobby, there to catch every move and interaction. I won’t even give them that much. And that’s a choice.

I close my eyes a moment and hold the pin in my fingers. What if Hop was next? It made sense that Brendan would’ve come first, but perhaps Rose was leaving Leon for last—that’d draw the biggest crowd…

In another locker room on the other side of stadium, Hop paces the floor. He doesn’t pace—he’s usually extremely calm, but not here. Brendan lost his match—Hop knew he would, Brendan didn’t really want to fight her to win anyways.

“ _I just want to put up a good fight. You know, to make sure that someone else who actually wants the title doesn’t have to be there. If it’s me, I don’t mind taking a loss to her. I owe her that much in all of this,_ ” he’d said in the taxi here. Brendan seemed so grown up, like he knew what he was headed into.

“ _Do you really love her, Hop?’Cause I need to know.”_

_Hop’s breath hitched at the question. “Why?” What was he hinting at? That he was next in line?_

_He chuckled easily, “Why? ‘Cause, Hop. She’s like my little sister. If you want her, you’d better be sure about it. You think things were hard before? This is just the beginning, and I need to know you’re gonna be there for her, not running off to other regions cause you can’t handle the hurt of a loss. I can be there for her all I want, but I’m not what she needs. She needs you, and you’ve gotta own up to that.” Brendan exhaled, a sad sound. “I need to know you’re gonna be there, all the time. Not just when you want, okay? She’s putting a whole lot out there for her, and you’re not even sure? Does it not hurt you to see her struggle? It’s killing me, Hop,” he breathes, looking out the window of the taxi. “You haven’t even told her how you really feel, have you?”_

_Hop shook his head, a pit of dread in his stomach. “I told her I’d think about it. I was so torn up by losing, I didn’t want to say too much. You know, cause I kinda go off sometimes…” He remembered the box in his pocket. It’s something he’d wanted to send her a long time ago, but didn’t get the chance, and now, he’s not even sure if he wanted to. What if she really didn’t mean all that stuff she said in the press conference? What if she really did need him? Brendan had been right so far… Hop relents and pulls the box into his hands, squeezing it. “I wanted to give this to her when I won the tournament. But I… when I lost, I figured that wasn’t the right time. I just…” he hands the box to Brendan. “I’ve had it literally forever, but now it’s just a reminder of my shortcomings.”_

_Brendan opens the box. He blinks, a look of confusion crossing his gaze, and his breath catching in his throat. “Oh man. This is gorgeous. It’s so her, she’s gonna flip. Wait…” he thinks, looking over at Hop. “We can use this, to our advantage. To get her out of this. To get the word out.”_

Hop thinks, too. Looking in the mirror at himself, he stretches the uniform. The intentionally breathable fabric now seemed to stick to him, making him claustrophobic. The memories of the last time he was here still haunt him. How quickly Ghost made work of him. How she got herself into all of this—and that was only a month ago. This had been both of their dreams, and now, he was being made to relive it being crushed over and over again.

But he’d do it for her. Just like Brendan asked. Because he wants her to know how much she does mean to him. He feels his heartbeat in his chest, and he remembers how it felt to have her fingers pressed there, really truly confessing how she felt, and he just turned her away. He couldn’t make himself say the words, because he felt so empty…

But it’s not her fault. He rubs his jaw, wincing at the thick bruise, and the cream makeup that came off with it. There wasn’t any way of getting onto that pitch without someone covering up that bruise. He wants to desperately rub it all off, and just call everything out—but what would that solve? Nothing. That much was obvious. Ghost… she’d been pushed into all of this. Leon, his _own brother_ , had done this through his compliance. When Lee told him that he should be careful of who he trusts, he never thought it’d be him.

He holds the box in his palm, reciting the words in his head. If there was anything he’d practiced, it’s this. He squeezes it again and puts it in his pocket, mind moving towards the match. He can do this, he has to.

After moments, the doors to the pitch open, and he’s walking into the loudest crowd he’s ever heard, hand on his ball belt. _This is it, huh?_

* * *

Keeping the steely demeanor is almost impossible. I watch his tall, lanky frame step across the pitch, and I remind myself that one step at a time is all that I need to manage right now. I can’t slow my thudding heart or even really see straight, but at least I could appear to. As he gets closer, there’s focus and determination in his eyes, but I can see he’s shaking. He offers a hand in sportsmanship, and I take it, giving a weak shake. I notice how tired his shoulders are, and how sunken in towards his chest. _Did they beat him more?_

He smirks, breathing, “May the best of us win, huh?”

“Hop, I… I’m sorry,” is all I can breathe. “I am so sorry.” I hope it isn’t picked up over the mic on my shirt.

“Don’t be. I’ll be the one sorry afterwards.” His voice is pained, and I look up on the screen to see my face no longer steely, but fearful. It flicks in the corners of my lips, and I bite my cheek from the inside to correct it. And it’s also then I notice the signs in the crowd, obvious that people wanted this to be dramatic. Signs screamed, “Kiss him!” “Capture her heart!” People had come for the show, not the battle. The press conference about the photo hadn’t changed any minds, at least those here. People wanted our unrequited love to be confirmed. They wanted something public and raw, and it’s obvious that a normal battle wasn’t going to cut it.

I look at his hand in mine and pull him into a hug instead, saying nothing. _I have to know…_ The crowd erupts in response. _Of course._

“For the second match, we have your Galar Champion, Ghost, and a well known favorite and the younger brother of Leon himself, Challenger Hop! Oh my, what a rematch!” Rose’s voice is booming, and it claws my soul. I glance around one last time, and in the corner of the locker room entrance, leaning against the wall, arms crossed, stands Leon, in full uniform. I swallow when his eyes meet mine, searing gold in the shadows of the awning.

I blink at him as I return to my side of the pitch, frowning. _Why are you here?_ I seethe at him. His white teeth flash at me, and he looks almost _entertained._ It’s sickening.

Without Sabre, I release Raga first. The Persian is tensed and ready to go, but the fur along his back bristles with anxiety. He looks at me, nodding, knowing that there’s a lot at stake. He’s used to being after Sabre, but this would have to do.

And of course, Dubwool makes an appearance across the line. He’d gotten so big… I smirk.

The two fight heavily, and I wince every time Dubwool’s horns crash into Raga’s side. Dubwool got stronger too. With one last hit, Raga struggles to get up, and I pull him in. “Mhh, c’mon, Neon,” I whisper to the ball before I let her loose.

She crackles with energy and seems more focused than normal. “He’s weakened, go get him!” Her speed is helpful, wrapping him up inside an electric current. “Mh! Good girl!”

Hop directs Dubwool in a strictly concise manner, going from one move to another. The method is structured and unlike he normally fights. This is planned, calculated, and executed. Again, and again, and again, he fights, and he doesn’t ever meet my gaze, he’s sucked into the battle.

_C’mon, Hop, at least try!_

An electric charge from Neon takes the ram down, and Hop nods, bringing him back in. “You did great, buddy.”

I bring Neon back, and step closer to him, trying to figure out who was next, but Hop just smiles weakly, adjusting the mic on his lapel. He looks so small in his white uniform, I’d believe the turf could overtake him. He’s so… broken.

_Why didn’t he fight harder? C’mon, snap out of it, Hop!_

The adrenaline from the match pushes me, “Is that the best you’ve got? I know better than that…” People chant in response. “Who’s next, huh?” I smirk, “Where’s Corviknight, huh? Cinderace? C’mon!” I circle him, remembering how matches between us went. Like this. Like it was all a game, none of it was serious—but his eyes, they’re exhausted. He’s not in it. His heart is not in it. I get closer and jab at him. “Snap out of it, huh? Fight me like you mean it, at least!”

“I did mean it,” he trails. “And no one is next.” He doesn’t jab back, he just stands his ground. “I’m not fighting you anymore. I refuse.”

I chuckle. “What? You can’t just stop!” Then it hits me. This is the choice. The crowd boos, shouting. They want more. This isn’t enough.

A ref breathes, “Challenger Hop still has Pokémon, therefore he cannot be taken from the field, unless he forfeits. Challenger, do you forfeit?” The referee looks concerned more than anything, leaning in to hear Hop’s response.

“I’m not forfeiting. Just… give me a minute, okay?” Hop looks around the arena, taking it all in with a tired expression.

“Isn’t this what you wanted? Didn’t you want the title? And you have a chance to have it, and you’re just giving up? What the hell, Hop? I thought you wanted this just to get back at me, huh?” I wince at my voice over the speaker, it’s no longer playful. It’s raspy and angry. I take a step closer to him, now only a few feet between us. “Fight me, Hop.” A demand.

A familiar chant runs through the crowd, the electricity between Hop and I fueling the song.

He sticks his hands up, backing up. Like everything is hitting him now. The realization of what he’s done. His eyes go wide, and he screams, “No! Everyone, wait!” his echoes reverberating. Silence falls over the crowd. His shoulders heave with heavy breaths into the mic, and he looks out at the crowd that seemed to tower over everyone. “Ghost, I don’t want to take the title from you. You deserved it the first time you got it. Why are we doing this? Why are we here?” Feedback from the mic crackles in the audio.

“To fight!” A voice calls from near us. “Yeah!” Others chime in.

“Hop, what are you doing?” My voice is flat.

Hop turns on his heel, facing it the voice in the crowd, angry. He points, “Hey, is that it, huh? Is that all anyone wants to see? This is ridiculous,” he trails, taking in the audience, shaking his head before pointing behind himself at me. I blink. “She won it fair and square against Lee, and none of you thought she earned it! I’m sick over this!” He gestures to the stadium, seeming to look every attendee in the eye.

I stop pacing and notice my own heart is thudding in my ears. The edges of my tartan flicker in the wind, and I watch his fists ball up at his sides, frustrated. “She earned it, and this is how you repay her!? No one ever did this to Lee!”

 _How is his mic still on?_ I think, watching it dangle on his lapel. “Hop, wait, hold on.” _Something is wrong._ _They should have cut his mic a long time ago…_ I look over my shoulder to where Leon was standing, and he’s gone. _Something is VERY wrong._ I squint at the press box where Rose usually sits, and he’s gone too. My heart picks up in my chest. I reach out to put a hand on Hop’s shoulder, and he wheels around, face red with passion. A choice.

“Ghost, I…” His lips twitch. His face changes from anger to fear again. “I have to do this, I…” With his dark waves blowing in the wind of the pitch, Hop sinks to his knee, almost stumbling on the way down. His eyes swirl with deep anxiety, and I feel a lump in my throat.

The crowd erupts again. They know what this is way before I can even process. The roar is deafening, and Hop pulls out a box from his pocket. His eyes are still on mine, but I take a step back. _No. This isn’t real._ Where joy should have filled my soul, here it drowns with dread. _This is staged. This isn’t real._

“Ghost, I know this is probably the last place you thought this would happen,” his voice echoes throughout the stadium, the mic now dangling loosely. “But I can’t deny this anymore. I love you, okay? Every moment I’ve spent with you has pushed me closer and closer to my goals, and being here today, challenging you for the title—it made me realize that I don’t want it—I want you.” His chest is huffing, and I can almost see the sweat washing away the makeup on his jaw that covered the nasty bruise. He reaches out, opening the box, a small, dainty ring on the inside. It’s a Southern Galarian pearl, burning iridescently in the stadium lights. _How’d he…?_

My eyes go back to the bruise he’d gotten from the guards on the rooftop. _Who put him up to this? What’s going to happen if I say no? I can’t say no! Does he know that? Who else knows that?_

“Ghost, will you marry me?” He smiles widely, but there’s bags underneath his eyes that makeup couldn’t cover. He’s not just asking, he’s begging. The stadium rumbles with electricity, even though spectators have gone silent waiting on my response.

What feels like a million years passes, and I see the terror in his eyes. The fear of me saying no. And with that, we’re where we started all those years ago. That fear is the same as it was when he was 7 and Leon introduced him to my mom and I. Those eyes gave me the same look as he peeked around his older brother’s hip at me. Not knowing if he would be accepted. Not knowing if he’d be enough. Not knowing what to say or do or think, only knowing to look at me and hope to be understood. To understand how terrified he was. Terrified of me.

And I was terrified, too, because I knew in that moment, all I wanted was in those eyes. To console him. To tell him that he’s enough. To tell him that he doesn’t have to be his brother. He doesn’t have to try to impress me. That he’s all I’d ever want from the moment we met. That’s the fear in his eyes, right now, because he knows it too.

I nod, giving him my hand. “Mhm.” Behind the tiredness, there’s a glimmer of hope in those eyes, and I doubt for a second if the whole thing is fake. The crowd erupts as he puts the ring on my finger, and I pull him up, hugging him tightly. I suppress the urge to hiss at him, and whisper harshly, “Why? Why right now?” _This is bad._

He rips the mic from his neck and hugs me back, choking, “Trust me, okay? Just fucking trust me.” He pulls away, “Can I get that kiss now?” He’s sincere, and his cheeks flush, even in these lights.

I nod.

He puts his hands on my face and pulls me in, and I give in, kissing him fully. From beside us, I hear the familiar whizzing of a Rotom camera. _Disgusting._

But, this kiss isn’t like the first one in the locker room. This one is passionless. His breath doesn’t huff possessively against mine, and his arms barely hold me in. I could easily step away from him, like he was giving me permission to leave. When we finally break, the crowd is still roaring. I can barely hear myself think, much less hear what Hop says as he steps back, mouthing. I blink. “What?”

He mouths the words again. _Trust me._

But he doesn’t see what I see—Leon and Raihan both approaching from behind him, Pokémon starters in tow.


	9. Consequence.

“Aw, congrats to the newly engaged couple!” Leon smirks, Charizard stepping beside him. The crowd explodes. Their champ. Not me. Leon. “My kid brother finally decided to settle down, and with a Champion, no less!” 

I swallow, eyes flicking to Raihan as his Duraludon is close by. He doesn’t meet my gaze, false canines glinting in the reflection of the stadium lights. I had forgotten he’d even had them—he only wore them in battle. I blink. _Only in battle._ The two step closer and closer. _Why won’t he look at me?_

Hop turns slowly, blinking. “Lee?” To his amazement, across the pitch, his brother walks with Raihan. If the crowd was loud before, they’re deafening now. Hop even seems to relax a moment upon seeing Leon, but then with a wince at the bruise on his jaw, he tenses again. The two with Pokemon out does not seem a good omen. “What are you doing?”

With his blood red cape moving in the wind, Leon pushes his fluffy hair over his shoulder. He smiles easily, seeming to bathe in the crowd’s delight, taking all of them in with his golden gaze. Charizard towers over him. They’re more than comfortable—this has been their element for the past fifteen years. But, underneath the gaze, Leon feels his gut churn. Staring at Hop as he stands protectively in front of Ghost, his little brother isn’t so little anymore. It’s hard for Leon to believe that he wasn’t that same scrawny little kid, always hiding in his shadow. Hop isn’t hiding anymore. He’s not running, and for all that passion in his eyes—distrust swirls in them as well, slicing Leon to his core. He’d done this. After it all, this is just as much Leon’s fault as it is Rose’s. He swallows down the apprehension. “You wouldn’t mind if we upped the antics, huh? Instead of having Ghost slug it through two more matches, why don’t we make this a little more interesting? Double battle us. Give these people what they came for, huh?” He turns to the crowd, pumping them up a little more. They roar in agreement.

Hop sticks his arms out, now obviously shielding me, slight concern turning incredulous. “Lee, are you kidding me? You just heard me, right? I’m not fighting!” His voice is serious. “If anyone knows how ridiculous this is, it’s you!”

The two still get closer, stopping inches from Hop and I. Leon and his brother are nearly nose to nose, except that Leon is taller, eyes downcast at Hop. A smirk is on his lips—Hop’s statement is null to him. Raihan steps around Hop and looks down at me, towering. I forgot how tall he really was. His crystal blue eyes sear mine, but his composure isn’t as well kept as Leon’s. “Then get off the pitch, mate.” Raihan breathes, eyes still locked on mine. I don’t look away. I’m not backing down. “If you’re not fighting, then get off the pitch.” The repeated phrase is a warning, somehow. ‘ _Get off the pitch, and get far away.’_ The conversation we had yesterday reverberates in my head, _“Leon told you to trust him. Just do it, okay? Stop thinking you have control over all of this. You don’t.”_

Hop nearly growls. “I’m not leaving. I’m not fighting. We’re done. This is over.”

Leon scoffs. “It’s never over, Hop. Fight, or get out of my way.”

“Your way?”

I step away from Raihan’s gaze, wincing at the coldness of Leon’s words to his brother. Fighting isn’t a choice. Not one that is mine to make at least. “Fine. I’ll fight. Even if I have to take you both myself.” I look over at Hop, begging him to leave. He squints his eyes at me, and I turn away. I have to keep him safe, and this is probably the only way I would. I release Neon again, walking away to my side of the pitch. Slowly, Hop follows, turning away from his brother with a grimace. Cinderace makes an appearance, and I nod at him. I rip the mic from my chest and lean to him, “We can do this. We’ve beaten them both before. Let’s just get this done, and we can get out of here.” I breathe, looking at him, putting a hand over his shoulder.

He pulls it away, “You don’t understand. We have to tell everyone why this is wrong, what it’s doing to other Pokémon. By complying, we’re just saying it’s okay… Ghost, we don’t have to fight them.”

I shake my head, looking at his jaw and the purple underneath his eyes. “If I don’t do this, Rose is going to have you and Brendan put in jail or murdered. That bruise was a warning. This is the only thing I can do to keep you safe. We have to stay alive to do something about it, Hop.”

He winces. “I wish you weren’t right.”

“I can’t do anything about that.”

With a roar, Charizard sweeps in at Neon. “Mnh! Watch out!” I shout, stepping away from the center of the ring. The lithe young Yamper scampers away, narrowly missing Charizard’s claws. She crackles with electricity, and the attack stabs back, enough to make the dragon flinch.

Cinderace manages a hard blaze on Duraludon’s chest, the creature growling and stumbling. “Yeah! That’s it!” I shout, looking over at Hop. He’s bunkered down again, eyes flicking worriedly back and forth like before. “Hey! Snap out of it!” I give him a hard shove, snapping my fingers in his face. His lip is between his teeth, and he blinks away the fog, grunting. What is he thinking so hard about?

“Where is Rose?” He echoes.

I shake my head. He’d picked up on that too. “We can’t worry about that right now, okay? We have to win thi—” A loud yelp comes from Yamper as Charizard picks her up in her jaws, taking her to the sky. I freeze, watching in terror, just as I had when it was Sabre.

_Sabre…_

Hop looks at me to do something, but I can’t move. I can only see Sabre’s limp body on the pitch, ravaged with the disease. Hop shouts something indistinctly towards Neon, and electricity crackles brightly, stopping Charizard in her tracks. Leon grimaces and looks over at Raihan who nods, tapping his wrist where his wishing star band is. The look is obvious.

Dynamax.

Duraludon roars angrily and knocks Cinderace back with a heavy kick to his side, where the rabbit struggles to get back up from the pitch beside Hop. “Mngh, c’mon! Don’t give up!” But he’s not talking to Cinderace. He’s talking to me. All of it, I feel like I’m stuck. This whole thing, I was never in control. By trying to make it that way, I stuck my nose into something I was never meant to understand. And I drug Hop into it. I made him join me in this. He’s in my face now, sweat rolling down his temples. “Fuck, Ghost, snap out of it! For the love of Arceus, do something!”

Scratching at her heels, Yamper limps after Charizard, still fighting. Even Cinderace is slowing down, but still hitting hard. Together, Leon and Raihan bring out their Dynamax balls, and throw them together. _Fuck, fuck, fuck._ The crowd roars, and I feel the ground rumble with it. Hop brings back Cinderace and recalls revived Dubwool, frowning. “I don’t think we can win this, Ghost,” he breathes, stepping back. His chest is heaving, and mine is too. “So what now?”

“We go down fighting, together.”

“Always,” he breathes, holding my hand in his. I look down at his fingers, long and tan within mine. They shake slightly, but probably from exertion. His thumb brushes the ring I’d forgotten I was even wearing, “I’d rather lose with you than without.”

I nod.

Growing high above the edge of the stadium is both Leon and Raihan’s Pokémon, bathed in red glow. The two of them stand together as well, and I notice Leon isn’t smirking anymore, he has tears streaking down his face. Big, ugly, heavy tears. With a point of Leon’s finger, Charizard unleashes a giant fireball to the control center of the stadium. The whole thing happens in slow motion—the heat of the blaze on my face, and the look of terror in Hop’s eyes. With a screech, the lights cut off, shutting the stadium into darkness. Glass hits the pitch, and the roar of the crowd turns into screams. I turn quickly to where Hop was, but the space is empty. I hear a thud beside me, but it’s a dull one. The roars of both Charizard and Duraludon fill the stadium.

“Hop! Where are you?” I fumble around for his familiar hand in the dark but get nothing. _He was just here!_ I feel shapes of people and bodies next to mine as they flood the field trying to escape—fear in all of them. _Why did Leon do that?!_ “Hop!” I shout again. Instead, a fist grabs my hair and pulls me to the ground hard, pinning me down. I struggle, screaming, “Get off of—mmh!” A large hand clamps down over my mouth, and I force my eyes to adjust to the little light that was left from outside the stadium and radiating from the Pokémon. I don’t need my eyes though—the hand tastes of sweat and blood, and oran berries. _Brendan!_

“Shh! Shut up, Ghost, for Arceussake, don’t fucking bite me!” Before I can breathe, the familiar body is pulling me up, dodging me under the cover of the other bodies swarming us, away from the center of the pitch. _But Hop!_

“Where’s Hop?!” I shout at him, pushing him to stop. Fists fall against his chest, and he doesn’t waver. “Wait, Brendan!” We’re running towards the locker room—I’m not leaving without him! “We have to get him! He was right beside me, but he’s—”

A scream. Hop’s scream. My heart thuds. _Oh, Arceus…_ In the direction of the scream, I watch as Duraludon pulls away from some impact, slowly falling back to normal size. I don’t even notice that Charizard is missing already, too.

“Ghost! We have to go! We don’t have much time until those Macro Cosmo thugs show up!” Brendan tries to rope me in, but I rip away, leaving the tartan in his fist.

“You go! We’ll meet at the weald!” I shout, running into the fray after Hop, dodging bodies as best as possible. Brendan grunts frustratedly and follows, “Stop being so goddamn stubborn! We have to go!”

“Hop!” _If I lose him…_

Soon, I hear the screeches of Corviknights and Swellows, all coming from above the stadium. Rifles aimed, only a few moments pass before I hear gunshots. Real gunshots. Not Pokémon attacks—real guns. These aren’t Macro Cosmos. They’re militia. People. It’s an ambush. The whole thing—none of it had to do with publicity. The letters weren’t only a warning. They were a promise.

I fight harder, getting to the clearing where I heard Hop’s scream, and I freeze at what I find. The breath is sucked from my chest, and I can’t feel my heart anymore. I can’t feel anything but static as I watch Hop’s limp body being carried in Raihan’s arms. Hop’s dark curls flop limply in the starlight and glow of the city, and I watch a trickle of blood run down one strand onto Raihan’s jacket.

“Raihan!” I struggle, Brendan pulling me in, grunting. “Raihan, you bastard! I trusted you! Fuck, Brendan, let me go! _Hop! Hop, wake up!_ ”

Raihan stutters a second, struggling through the crowd with Hop’s long body. My insult stings him. “Get her out of here, Brendan, we don’t have much time to buy here!”

“Trying!” He shouts.

It doesn’t process. All I see it Hop dangling uselessly, lifeblood soaking Raihan’s jacket. It doesn’t process that everyone knows what this is except Hop and I. My limp body hugs against Brendan’s chest, and the fuzzy feeling in my chest goes to my head. Black fades in against my vision, and the last thing I notice is the curve of Hop’s face in the crook of Raihan’s chest, a smudge of blood and cream makeup going pink on his brow.

* * *

_** Raihan-- ** _

With Hop knocked out in my arms, I find myself running. Running towards the exit. _We’re almost there…_ I have to get him out of here. If Brendan could get Ghost out of here, then I could manage Hop and I. Gunshots still ring through the stadium, and I pray Brendan keeps his word. _You’re just there to provide cover, not kill anyone!_

The way Ghost looked at me just before she fell out… I don’t blame her. Looking down at Hop sprawled limply, I frown. Like her, it’s not like he would’ve come willingly. There’s too much to say and not enough time to explain it all. Leon follows behind, dodging people left and right, too.

After Ghost explained the situation in Hoenn at the café, everything became a lot clearer. I’d heard about unrest in the Lower Regions, but that always seemed to be happening. This was different. The disease—that’s the final nail in the coffin. And Galar had done it. Rose did it. Mercilessly.

_I run after Leon, finding him on the outskirts of Wyndon, pacing in a small park forest. “Hey! What’s gotten into you? You left the café so suddenly—is everything okay?” I grab his hand in mine, and he pulls it away, angrily._

_“No! I’m not okay!” Leon seethes, pulling at the ends of his hair. Eventually he stops pacing. His eyes don’t leave the ground, and I can feel the anxiety coming from him in waves. “Rai,” his voice breaks. “I don’t know if I can fix this.” His golden eyes meet mine, and I blink, heart shattering. He’s always being so strong, I don’t know if I can see him like this… He seems so small… I do the one thing I know how and sink to my knees to sit in the tall grass, patting next to me for him to join. His breath catches, and he almost falls into me, long fluffy hair on my shoulder. The best thing for him is to be still. To slow everything down._

_“Talk to me?” I murmur, petting the hairs slick with nervous sweat from his brow._

_“We’ve got to get out of here, Raihan. I… there’s footage from the Lower Regions that’s being sent to Rose, warning him of the consequences of not pulling back control. They’re staging a rebellion. Those people are sick, and some of them are dying. Those towns—you remember what they looked like in the old books we found at Magnolia’s? They used to be so vibrant and happy and… full of life… But Galar changed that. We’re not helping them, Rai. We’re killing them, and no one here gets that, they have matches to see and places to go and none of that matters. It’s not them, so they don’t care.” He bites his lip. “I became Champion for me, and for Galar. You know that. But when I saw it was so much more than that—it’s taking care of Galar’s people, and inspiring positive change and playing political games and being Rose’s pet…” Leon shudders, “And I’ve done nothing but distract people from the abuse of power that’s going on. Raihan, we’re all a game. We don’t matter. The Championships never mattered. It’s a distraction, and it always has been, and I bought it, like an idiot!” His fists clench in his lap, and I put an arm around him, pulling him in._

_“Hey, don’t be so hard on yoursel—”_

_“Those people in Hoenn want us dead, Raihan. They not only threatened killing me, but killing Hop, too. The only reason they haven’t come after you is because no one knows about us being together, but I just,” his golden eyes brim with tears, “I can’t lose both of you. I have to get all of you out of here, and I think I know how,” he breathes. “Rose has been proposing Ghost refight all of the Champion matches. People in Galar can’t stand her because she’s so… prickly, and they want me to stay. I already told him I’m done with all of this—but he needs me to win to put down the rebellions in the Lower Regions. When Ghost wins, she’s steeling their resolve—they see her as one of them. The rematches are a display of power, Rai. If I beat her, it shows that her win was a fluke, and Galar is still on top… if I can’t beat her… things are going to get bad, and quick.” His breathing is slowing again, him working through everything out loud seemed to be helping, but I can’t shake the feeling of wanting to hold him tighter, as if he’d fall apart otherwise._

_“I got in touch with Brendan.”_

_“Isn’t that Ghost’s secret boyfriend or something?” I chuckle, trying to recall the name. “Prof. Birch’s kid?”_

_He nods. “Yeah, he’s one of the former Hoenn champs. He’s going to help us on the promise we get Ghost and Hop out of here. Brendan isn’t as dense as I thought he was, even coming from Hoenn,” he breathes. “He and the Prof. have been gathering a small militia to protect Hoenn if Galar ever staged an attack, not that it would help, but… he’s ready to do something about this…” He pauses, golden eyes flicking up to me. “Rai, I am too.”_

_I blink. “You? Part of the rebellion? Are you kidding me? They’ll kill you on sight! You can’t—”_

_He holds up a finger to my lips, and his eyes are serious. “I’m not going. I’m helping from here. I’ll do whatever it takes to fix this. I did this. We all did. It’s time to own up.”_

_Not going? The phrase echoes in my head, but doesn’t stick. “If Rose finds out…”_

_“He’s not. You know me, right? I can do this. Lying is a skill I don’t use often, but I’m a little too good at it,” he murmurs. “I’ll be okay.”_

_I realize he’s lying now—but to stop Leon from something he’s determined to do… I know better than that. Silence grows between us, and I hold his hands in mine. They’re long and thin, and warm. Like sunshine. He is my sunshine. Some days he’s glaring and harsh, but after all of it, I need him to be whole._

_“I tried to help her, Rai… she is too independent to be helped, and Hoenn sees that. The further she pushes me away, the further the Lower Regions push from Galar. I can’t get her to trust me—she’s always dodging me. She wasn’t like this when we were kids. The Championships… the publicity, losing Hop… it killed her trust, and none of it was my fault,” he trails. “So I’m using her pushing me away as an advantage in this, but it’s going to take you, too, Rai.”_

_“Me?”_

_“Gain that broken trust and put it in you. She thinks a lot of you. If you can guide her to and through the rematches, we can make this happen. We can get you all out before things get bad. You can go and guide her through this.”_

_Finally, it registers. He’s staying, and I’m not. “Wait. No. I’m not leaving you—”_

_“Rai…” he grips my hand. “I’m not asking you. I’m telling you. You will go and watch over my brother and Ghost, okay? I’ll be fine. Promise me, Raihan.”_

_I swallow. “I promise.”_

_“Oh, and Rai…?”_

_“Yeah?”_

_“It can be me and you, right? Just us?” His golden eyes are sincere, staring up at me. “You’ll be with me when this is all done?”_

_My breath hitches. “Are you saying, like, us be together? Are we not together right now? I don’t…?” I feel the red coming up in my cheeks, looking at him smile comfortably. The tears that had been brimming before spill over onto his cheekbones, and I remember I’d stopped breathing._

_“Raihan.” He faces me, hands going to hold my jaw. I look away from his gaze, not able to stand seeing him like this. How long had he been holding this in? How long had he suffered over this? Over Hop? Over Ghost? Over the Lower Regions. It’s not only his job!_

_“Lee, wait. You don’t have to do this. You can come, too. We’ll figure it out. We can make this happen. You don’t have to keep taking care of everything on your own! Fuck Ghost and Hop. They’re adults, let them do this—” I feel tears in my eyes now._

_Leon smiles sadly, shaking his head. “Mnh. You know I’m not stopping that any time soon. It’s just who I am, Rai. But I want it to be only us.” He blinks, “As partners. With that house in Alola, by the ocean? That’s what I want. And I want…” he buries his face in my neck, his chin stubble scraping my collarbone, “You’re half the reason I’m fighting, Rai. I want you. Forever and a day… I promise. What do you say?”_

_What do I say? “Forever and a day, huh?” I feel the heat of his blush against my throbbing jugular as I breathe resignedly, “Sounds pretty good to me.”_

Another gunshot pulls me from the memory, and Leon’s pulling on my jacket, hand shaking over Hop’s hair. “He’s okay, right?” He worries over his brother, huffing. I nod. It’s just a minor cut, but it’s on his temple, so it’s bleeding like hell. “I promised, didn’t I?” Promises aren’t worth a whole lot right now.

Slowly, we pick through the crowd, trying to blindly find the exit in the dark. Gunshots ring throughout the space, and Macro Cosmos begin to flood from floor entrances, flashlights glaring only for a moment before they get picked off by stray bullets. Blood rushes in my ears, and the only thing I can feel is Leon’s hand on my upper arm.

“And just where do the two of you think you’re going?” croons a woman’s voice. I feel my blood run cold. If I wasn’t frozen stiff, I would’ve dropped Hop. “Running from all of this so soon?” She adds, the glint of her blonde hair in the low light seeming to wrap right through us. “Strange that you haven’t also got Ghost in tow, Leon. Where did all those mothering instincts go?” A flash of silver in the night, and I wince. A blade.

“Get out of the way, Oleana. Hop’s hurt!” I step forward to pass her, but stop as I feel a ripping in the back of my sweatshirt jersey. A clear warning. I wheel around, panting. “What the hell, Oleana?!”

Leon steps between the two of us, towering over her. “We couldn’t find her. I think Brendan may have snatched her.” His eyes are sincere, and puts a hand firmly on her shoulder, “We have to get Hop to safety. Charizard lost her mind, and Hop fell out. I’ve got her in the ball now, but we need to go! I have to get her to Magnolia before she breaks out again…”

Oleana blinks, the shock fading into a huffing that turns into light laughter. She laughs more fully now, and I attempt to take the distraction and get away before she lunges in at Leon. “Do you think I’m dumb? C’mon, spit it out huh? I watched Brendan drag Ghost out of the stadium! You _let_ him have her.”

Leon takes a step back, shock running across his gaze. _Shit!_ I take a few more steps backwards, almost out of reach of her blade…

“Don’t take another step, Raihan,” she growls, dagger tip now creasing Leon’s shirt against his sternum. He doesn’t take a step back, but stands there, huffing still. Why isn’t he moving? “We normally would’ve seen this coming,” she pauses, giving the blade a twist, Leon wincing. “But all signal from the telecommunications tower was cut off just before you two dynamaxed. Who would know where it’s located, Leon?” She takes a step away from him, brow creasing. Decidedly, she takes another towards Hop and I. “‘Cause the last time I checked, it was Rose…”

The dagger is pointed in my direction now. I swallow.

“Me…” Another step. The glint of the blade stops just before Hop’s arm.

“Oleana,” Leon breathes, following after her, arms outstretched, “Don’t. He’s not a part of this…”

She ignores his pleading. “and _you,_ Leon.” In a flash, she puts the blade against my neck, wrapping herself behind me. “Rose was right when he said you cared way too much about her. Telling her everything, it’s a shame really. You put so much faith in her, and only you get hurt…” she drawls, and Leon is frozen, golden eyes glaring at her. “You need to be taught a lesson.”

In the depths of his golden gaze, I see it. I see the wheels turning. “Drop it,” he mutters, but it’s clear he’s talking to me. _Drop Hop. Get out of her grip, and take him and run._ He stands still, chest huffing. With a groan, I release the dead weight in my arms and force my wrist underneath Oleana’s, slipping out from underneath her grasp. “Oh no you don’t!” she screeches, a last ditch effort as her blade connects with my side deeply this time, ripping into my back.

The plunging metal is halted as Leon tackles Oleana to the ground, pinning her firmly. “Raihan! Are you okay? Gah!” He’s struggling to keep her underneath him, her body writhing.

“Get off of me!” She spits. “You traitor! Rose will know what you’ve done, you stupid mongrel! Don’t you know you’re his pawn? Not the other way around! You’re nothing more than a poster boy! Rose made you who you are and he can undo it just as quickly!”

The fire in my side only grows hotter, blade sticking out from my lower back. “Mh, fuck!” I shout, grabbing Hop’s lifeless body from the pitch. “Leon, c’mon!”

“No!” he shouts, “You go! I’ve got this!” His huge hands slide up from her shoulders, now on her collarbones.

I manage to grab Hop, pushing through the pain, but my eyes still watch Leon. His gaze shifts to something very dark, and very pained, and I can’t pull myself away. _Lee?_ In the darkness, I hear Oleana’s voice rise in fear, words becoming a begging sound… Finally able to drag myself away, I shudder as her scream gurgles into silence, footfalls the only thing that breaks the sound.

“Keep going!” Leon shouts, voice growing further and further away from me. The heat in my side continues to pour from me, and I can smell copper, hot and wet. My feet keep going, but I don’t know where I’m headed… the tunnel is supposed to be this way! With each jolt, Hop slumps lower and lower in my arms. _Mnnnh, c’mon!_

My heart thuds like a bass drum in my ears as I make it to the tunnel, but everything in me is screaming now, not just my side. _How are we getting out of this?_ The gurgle of Oleana’s scream seems to echo in my ears, and I lean for a moment against the cool concrete of the exit tunnel, huffing. My vision is beginning to go, edges of black against everything else. _Is this worth it? Is any of this worth it?_ I think briefly of Ghost, and wonder if she knew what she is a part of… whose lives are now at the tips of her fingers… My knees buckle from underneath me, and I slump against the wall, still huffing. _I have to get him out of here… even if it’s not me…_

But the thought is useless, the black crowds in, and I feel Hop’s head hit heavily against my chest as I squeeze him tighter with all I have left.

I’m not sure how long I black out. It feels like hours, but I know it can’t be but a moment—there’s still sparse gunshots inside the stadium. I put a hand to my side, and wince. My back is throbbing, and I pull away my hand, covered in blood.

It should be warm, but it’s not. It’s… cold. Everything in me is cold as I hold Hop in my arms, trying to desperately wake him through my own haze. I vigorously rub his back and my arm screams at me to stop. I can’t. If I stop, I’ll freeze up altogether. “Hop, mng, c’mon… get up, you’ve gotta go! You gotta get out of here… please get up!” I groan weakly. He doesn’t respond, and I can’t get up on my own.

From the other end of the corridor, I see a shadow, walking towards us. _Is that… Brendan? Did he come back to find us?_ I lean up, desperately trying to see. “Brendan…?”

“Hah. That’d be nice, wouldn’t it?” _Rose. Fuck, can I not catch a break?_ He steps closer and closer, each footfall even—calculated.

“Mngh! Hop, get up!” I weakly shove him onto his knees, palm slicked with blood—but it's no use, he's out cold. He falls to the side, head cradled in my hands in my lap.

I can't help but see Leon in him. The curve of his eyebrow to the fluffiness of his hair… the two even had similar cheekbones. I feel frozen—stuck here between a promise I made to Leon and my own life—I shakingly stand, taking every ounce of strength I have left, arms outstretched weakly over Hop. “Don't come any closer,” I growl.

Rose blinks. “Or what? You'll bleed on me? Sit down before you fall down, Raihan.”

The slash in my side burns brighter, life force ebbing through it. Who knew this would be the way I'd go?

He looms over me, taking my chin in his fingers, “What a waste, hm? It’s going to be difficult finding another trainer with your type of charisma to boost our ratings, Raihan.” He tilts my jaw left and right, glancing at me before forcing me back onto the ground. “Pathetic. It’s a shame you had to come to an end like this, huh?” His face crouches over mine, teeth glinting, “Not even Leon saved you. You’ll be remembered,” he pulls away, picking up Hop and tossing him over his shoulder. “Just another casualty from this horrific raid… oh, poor Lee,” he laughs, stepping away.

I’m powerless to stop him, and can only watch as he steps away. “Hop! I’m sorry!” I begin to sob. “ _Lee… I’m so… so sorry…”_ I think of Lee’s promise to me, and mine to him; _forever and a day_. I press my cheek against the ground and huff, trying to only remember the good memories as the dim lights and sounds of gunshots fade into nothingness.


	10. Chapter 10

_“Citizens of Galar…”_ Rose’s voice chimes through the speakers. The sound of it is bleak and sad, even through the static.

Somewhere in a secret base in Hoenn, the sound of the static filled broadcast falls on tired and anxious ears. Ghost holds Raihan close to her chest, petting his hair away from his face. He doesn’t budge, but continues to breathe peacefully before his icy blue eyes slowly open and land on hers. Ghost inhales with relief, tears coming to her cheeks. Raihan pulls Ghost into a tight hug, not letting go. To still be here after it all…

Brendan holds Ghost’s hand a moment—tears are in his eyes, too. All three turn to the broadcast, holding each other as if that’s all they have. It may really be all they have.

_“There are no words to express the extent of what we have lost. We have lost people and trainers we have loved, all in the face of a terrible threat that is now approaching Galar.”_

Hop clings to his brother, crying dryly as Leon’s arms encircle his chest. Hospital lights hum with a blue-white hotness, and machines click with repeated accuracy. For once, Leon holds Hop, and knows that he’s safe, in this moment, in this space here with him. Here in Leon’s chest, despite the coming storm, Hop can finally break down privately. Even still, Leon winces at the faces of the dead as they scroll the screen, each one once bright and smiling. The breath leaves his body when he sees Oleana’s face. On the screen, it’s just like all of her other candid shots, but the only thing Leon can remember is how her neck collapsed under his fingertips. Leon hugs Hop just a bit tighter…

 _“But Galar will not grow weak from this. We cannot withdraw from this challenge, and we will rise to meet it, with the path underneath our feet. As you may all know, Galar’s foreign policy has been one of patience and restraint, as befits a peaceful and powerful nation, but now further action is required. The Lower Regions think they can exist outside of our welcoming arms—they use our resources and deplete our energy, headed by a terrorist group.”_ Rose’s voice fades out, and reporters cover him again.

Slowly, Brendan pulls Ghost away from Raihan, letting him breathe. Leaning against the wall with her head on his chest, he feels a coldness grip his soul. How long will this last? Can they even make a difference? He pets her raven waves softly and blinks at the screen, hushing her sobs.

_“The terrorist group, calling themselves “The Militia,” staged an ambushed attack on Wyndon Stadium earlier this evening, shooting and killing twenty innocent audience members, our very own Vice Chairman, Oleana, and Hammerlocke’s Dragon Type Gym Leader, Raihan. We are deeply shaken to have lost so many lives.”_

Leon blinks. Rose doesn’t know that Raihan made it out. After contacting Brendan, Leon was shocked to know that Raihan was alive, and that Rose had grabbed Hop. Rose left Raihan to die… but what about his body? Surely Rose would know he’d made it if they couldn’t find his body. Then it hits Leon. It’s another stunt. Losing Oleana isn’t enough—but losing the top gym leader in Galar would hit home even more. _Dammit,_ he thinks, now slumped around Hop’s frame. His brother turns in his chest, staring at the broadcast with puffy red eyes. Hop’s fluffy hair presses against Leon’s sternum, warming his chest. Any warmth was welcome to the cold throb now in his veins. Leon sets his chin on Hop’s head and curls around him even more.

_“The Militia is led by none other than the Hoenn region champ, Brendan, who took part in the recent tournament against Champion Ghost. Ghost has been reported missing at this time and is believed to be taken hostage by The Militia.”_

Ghost’s breath stops in her chest, and her knees crumple to the floor as she stares up at Brendan with complete horror. He looks away, unable to look at her. To look at her brokenness. The brokenness he caused. He never meant for her to find out like this. He couldn’t tell her while he was there in Galar, but now…

It’s not long before Ghost finds her footing, and her fists take a weak swing at Brendan’s chest—the blows don’t land—they just sit in Brendan’s palms as he holds her wrists. She’s shaking and screaming, cursing him for losing Hop, but all Brendan can do is stare at her as she struggles, breaking down at each word that falls from her lips. After she’s cried herself out, she stands, exhausted, staring at Brendan emptily. Raihan slowly hugs Ghost to himself, and she lets go of Brendan, eyes still locked on his. Brendan could almost swear there’s hate in them now.

The President’s voice returns. _"We always seek peaceful avenues before resorting to the use of force, but there is no peaceful avenue for this. Though, we will not prematurely or unnecessarily risk the costs of worldwide war in which even victory would be societal collapse—but neither will we shrink from that risk at any time. Despite our proven strength, Brendan and the Militia will continue this reckless policy of intimidation, his relentless pursuit of terror. He may have counted on Galar to be passive, but he counted wrong.”_

In Hop’s palms, he holds his brother’s large fingers, noticing all the claw marks on them—little bits of skin marred here and there. _Where did all of those come from…?_ He thinks, massaging the seemingly stiff joints. He remembers almost wistfully helping Leon with his hands even when they were kids—Leon always had stiff hands from helping Milo haul hay in the fall, all of the weight and stress on them would make them lock up. But now, as Hop presses on Leon’s knuckles, Hop notices that everything about his brother’s hands feels heavy, weighted down with a burden that Hop couldn’t lift. The thought pinches him a bit as he continues to squeeze them almost lovingly, careful not to open any of the scrapes…

Leon rips his fingers away from Hop’s suddenly and yelps in pain. “Mnn! Stop that!” He winces, pulling himself away from Hop, no longer leaning into the warmth that he gave—Leon feels ice begin to turn his blood to sludge again, staring at his little brother’s terrified expression.   
  
“Lee…?”

“Hop… I… sorry.” Is all Leon can manage, leaning back against the bed from his seat in the chair, staring at the ceiling.

Slowly, with caution, Hop puts his brother’s palms gently to his own chest, leaning into him. “Lee…” He feels his voice reverberate against Leon’s palms. “I understand.” As if that was all he needed to hear, Leon begins to sob silently into Hop’s hair, pulling him closer.

_“I understand…”_


End file.
